A/N: Written because mid-'90s Jane and Maura would have been so cute together. This isn't quite angst and it isn't quite fluff and there won't be any real drama. It's just an all-around feel good, girl-meets-girl, mid-'90s teen love story. Enjoy! :)

Jane Rizzoli's eighteenth year of life felt like a transitional phase. She had been accepted to the prestigious Boston Cambridge University, but she threw away her acceptance letter the day after she had received it. Jane had proven to herself that she could get in, but she never had any intentions of actually attending BCU. Her guidance counselor praised her for her achievement, but her praise became a lecture once she found out what Jane had done to her acceptance letter. Mr. and Mrs. Rizzoli knew nothing of their daughter's acceptance to BCU and Jane wanted to keep it that way because, had they found out, Jane's fate would have been sealed and she would have submitted her intent to register against her will. Mrs. Rizzoli knew her daughter was bright and she wanted the best for her, but what her mom thought was best for her was entirely different from the future that Jane had in mind for herself. All throughout high school, Jane had dreamed of being a police officer and she wasn't going to put off her dream for another four years just to attend BCU when she could attend a junior college and enroll in the police academy after earning her Associate's Degree. She'd be starting her dream job two years earlier and graduating without any student loans. Jane thought it was the most adult decision she had ever made, but she planned on keeping it to herself. There was no easy way to tell her parents she wanted to be a police officer and Jane was going to hold off on telling them until the moment was right, which she figured might not be until she was actually in the academy or maybe even until she had a badge.

Her parents thought she had become unmotivated or—heaven forbid—a 'slacker,' but what they didn't know is that their eighteen-year-old already had her entire life planned out and it was only a matter of time before she achieved her goals. Until then, Jane was going through the motions. She was taking a full course load at a local junior college. Her classes were mainly general education classes required for her to earn her Associate's Degree, but Jane still put her all into them and when she wasn't in school Jane divided the rest of her time between two jobs. They weren't particularly demanding or well-paying jobs, but it was gainful employment, nonetheless.

Jane's favorite job was at a music store called The Basement. She had never imagined herself working at a music store, but her best friend Mark got her the job after she had gone in to visit him and his boss said he liked her moxie. Their boss, Jerry, was a former hippie turned conservative who had owned the music store since the mid-'70s and, although he liked Mark and Jane, he loved to complain about their generation's music. "This gloomy music is what's wrong with young people today. Back in my day, we believed in things and our music came from the heart," is what he'd tell them followed by the obligatory, "Mark, take off that damn earring and, Jane, it's call the women's department. Maybe you should shop there."

As usual, Jane arrived at The Basement a few minutes before her scheduled time out of breath and with her skateboard in hand. Jerry took one look at Jane's ensemble and shook his head. "I know I don't pay you that much but I do pay you enough to buy a new pair of jeans," he told her.

"These are new," Jane responded. "I cut holes in them and sandpapered them last night. What you're looking at is a Jane Rizzoli original."

Jerry was completely dumbfounded. "So, you took a perfectly good pair of blue jeans, cut them, and then rubbed sandpaper all over them to make them look like they came out of a dumpster?"

"Welcome to the '90s," Mark said and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"Damn kids these days with their ripped jeans and grunge music," Jerry muttered as he walked away from them.

"It's good to see you, too, Jerry," Jane called out.

After clocking in, Jane took off her oversized flannel shirt and tied it around her waist. Underneath her flannel was an Alice In Chains t-shirt she had borrowed from Mark a year ago and had yet to give back to him. The shirt would have appeared large on most girls, but Jane wasn't the size of most girls. There was room for her to fit her whole body twice, which is one of the reasons why that shirt was her favorite. It was comfortable and wearing it reminded her of all the times she listened to music with Mark in his car instead of attending parties or other social functions like high school students were expected to.

"Yo, Jane," Mark said after Jane had finished ringing up her first customer of the workday. She was a teenage girl who purchased an Ace of Base cassette and Jane gave herself a mental pat on the back for keeping her mouth shut about the girl's taste in music.

"What's up?"

"You doing anything tonight?" Mark asked. It was the question Jane hated the most. He knew she wasn't doing anything after work, yet he felt compelled to ask, which could only mean he had already made plans for her.

"I know where this is headed," Jane sighed. "Who's the chick?"

"Her name is Markie," Mark began. "She stopped in here yesterday and bought a Soundgarden tape, so I know she's cool. She goes to BCU but she's not a nerd, you know, or a spoiled rich kid. But, yeah, she invited me to watch her friend's band play at Stuevie's tonight."

"No," Jane told him. "Not like 'no, get out of here,' but 'no, I'm not going,'"

"We always have fun at Stuevie's," Mark pointed out. "Remember when we went for your birthday and the bartender gave us free shots because he liked your hair? Granted, you don't drink and we're underage, but at least I got yours and mine."

"You were wasted in minutes," Jane reminded him. "I spent the rest of the night keeping you hydrated and making sure you ate so you wouldn't throw up."

Mark got on his knees and wrapped his arms around Jane's legs. It was a pitiful sight, but Jane would have been lying if she said she didn't enjoy seeing Mark grovel. "Jane, please. She won't show up at the club without her friend. This girl is a dead ringer for Courtney Love. I have to score with her. I'll owe you big."

Jane remained firm in her stance. "No."

"Jane, c'mon," Mark pleaded. "If not for me, do it for yourself. You need something a little more tangible than that Claudia Schiffer dream you had the other day."

Although Jane was hesitant to admit it, she knew Mark was right. At eighteen-years-old, she had never been in a relationship and she had never been kissed except for the time she and Mark had been dared to kiss each other when they were fifteen. It was awkward and even a little bit disgusting, but neither of them were the type to pass up a dare.

"Fine," Jane groaned. Mark got up from his knees and hugged Jane as tightly as he could.

"Thank you so much, Jane. I owe you one."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, so tell me about the friend you two are setting me up with."

"Her name is Laura," Mark informed her. "Or is it Cora? Maura? No, it's definitely Laura. Laura Stiles or maybe she said Maura Isles. She's like majoring in physics and shit or some type of science. She's kinda weird, though, but who the fuck cares as long as she puts out, right?"

"I hate you, Mark," Jane muttered.

"What did you say?"

Jane made sure to enunciate each word. "I said I…hate…you…Mark."

Mark just shrugged. "That's fine."

Jane spent the rest of her shift ringing up customers and listening to music with Mark. It was no different from any other work day except for the fact that Jane couldn't get her mind off of what she was going to be doing later that night. She had hoped to spend a relaxing night at home, but instead she had let Mark talk her into going to Stuevie's with him so he could get laid. Jane had no intentions of rounding the bases with Markie's friend—this Laura or Maura or whatever her name was and she had a feeling she wouldn't even be the slightest bit interested in this girl, but Jane knew she still had to be polite to her and try to make conversation. Jane this is going to be a long day followed by an even longer night.