Author's Note: This is my first try at writing Rizzoli & Isles fanfic, but after the glorious butt-slapping scene in ep 5 AND the "Unzip me" thing, I just had to do something with it. :) To make it even more difficult, I wrote this in Jane's POV (I think doing a Maura POV would kill me, what with her Google Mouth and everything), but I have no idea if I actually got her "voice" right, first time and everything, so please don't eat me in case it's totally OOC. Also, I'm not sure if I'll leave this as it is or if I'll add more. Feedback is very appreciated, no matter if it's good or bad!
Disclaimer: Neither the gorgeous Rizzoli, nor the equally gorgeous Isles are mine (man, if they were, they would've hooked up in season 1 already), but belong to TNT and the brilliant mind of Tess Gerritsen. Also, I'm just a poor office schmuck, so even if you sue me, you won't get no money from me. ;)
And so, withouth further ado...
Slap some Sense into Me
„A fatal slip and fall at the Pilgrim's locker room", Maura tells me right after she hung up the phone, and automatically, my eyes move back to the TV where the announcer is still talking about whatever he's been talking about before Maura got that phone call, but not about the fact that there's a dead person lying around there somewhere.
"That's weird, they're not reporting it", I say out loud, and, after a second, I add "Let's go" – not only do I want to stay with Maura, but I'm not all too interested in hanging out with both my Ma and my screw-up brother Tommy, he might get the idea to tell me about his fun time in the pokey.
Maura gives me a look that basically says "What?", after all, only she has been called, slip-and-falls are not my department, not even when they end fatal – I can hardly arrest the edge of a table or the floor after all, right? – and so I feel I have to add an explanation, before she might get the idea to tell me I should stay here.
"I've never been to the Pilgrim's stadium, and their locker room is closer than your couch, come on!" I thus say – and then I slap her as I walk past her. On the butt. Yes, Ladies and Gentleman, I slapped my best friend, whom I totally not crushing on, on the butt. Straight best friends do that all the time, right?
Okay, I know they don't. I've never done that with any other friend, and I'm not even sure why I did it to Maura right now. And hard enough to make a pretty loud slap sound, too. So loud, in fact, that Ma turns on the couch and gives me the look, the one she – for some weird reason – always gives me whenever Maura touches me or I touch her or we look at each other a bit longer than best friends should be looking at each other, that look where she raises one eyebrow and tilts her head just a bit, silently asking me a question I'm not ready to answer yet.
Maybe someone should slap me – slap some sense into me.
However, Maura doesn't really seem to mind; she remains where she is for a moment, then she says something about how she's always wanted to see the players without their uniforms, and before I can stop myself, I say "Maura!" in that slightly annoyed, totally not jealous tone. Why would I be jealous if she wants to see those idiot guys without their uniforms? Please. I'm totally not crushing on her.
Whoo! Score! Tickets at the first base line! Unfortunately, they are for the game which will be playing in a few minutes and even more unfortunately, the guy who gave them to me – former colleague, old guy, now working in security – wants me to go and watch it while he'll go help Maura look at the dead person. No way I'm gonna be that far away while he ogles Maura.
So, I tell him that if it's okay for him, I'll just wait here for Maura – of course calling her "Dr. Isles", formality and everything – in that tone that makes it clear to him that, even if it shouldn't be okay with him, I'll wait right here anyway. Luckily, he doesn't make a fuss, but agrees and walks off, so score again! Only this time, it's a bit lessened by the fact that now, I'm stuck in a locker room with a bunch of baseball players and get to watch their strange little habits.
Okay, let's see… guy giving his baseball bat some sort of handjob with a little blue thingy and then sniffing the blue thingy. Ew. Compensating much? Next up, guy opening and closing the Velcro on his glove and counting how often he did that. You've gotta be kidding. Guy drinking from a bottle with lotsa bling on it, someone's making too much money. Velcro guy watches and still goes "One, two, three…", opening and closing the Velcro. And, oh jeez, for crying out, this next guy takes the cake – he just goes and pukes right into the trashbin. I pity the cleaning lady. At first she has to find a random dead guy and now this. Talk about stressful work environment.
And as if that wasn't enough, some other random guy comes up to me and tries some chit-chat, talking about how baseball players are superstitious and have their little rituals. No! I never would have guessed, after what I just saw! Ditz. Aww, and he makes it even worse by using the old "I wouldn't mind being interrogated by you" pick-up line while he gives me his number. Really? That line? I've heard that one how often, four million times?
"Heard that line. Like, four million times", I tell him, forcing a smile on my face, and he tries to make it better by telling me to call him and that he'll think of a new one. It'll probably be about handcuffs or nightsticks or something.
Okay, I've had enough of puking baseball players and non-puking ones who try to pick me up, so it's time to join Maura in the shower… wouldn't that be awesome… Goddammit, what is wrong with me? So, I mentally clear my throat and get my thoughts outta the gutter, and I join Maura in the shower, in a totally innocent, non-sexual way of course, I mean, there's a dead person there, so of course I'd just join in her in an innocent way, I mean, which other way could there be for two best, straight friends? I'm totally not crushing on her.
Eww, naked guy. Naked chubby guy, to make it even worse. Naked chubby dead guy. And Maura looks a bit upset, that isn't good, something's bothering her, and I quickly find out why, there are two skull fractures even though chubby guy just fell once.
Security guy tries to tell us that he cracked his head on the shower handle, but smart Maura quickly sees that this can't be true because the shower handle doesn't fit the gash, so something else must have struck his skull. Oh no, I hate when this happens, I know Maura doesn't like guessing, practically hates it in fact, but if there's any chance that this is a murder and not an accident, I have to make her guess. So, I give her a deep, deep look and, in a lowered voice (bedroom voice… what is wrong with me? totally not my bedroom voice), I ask her if it's a suspicious death and what her gut says.
"I don't listen to my intestines", she tells me. Jesus, that woman is so literal sometimes. But that's one of the things I lo—like about her. Most of the time. Not right now though.
"Maura?" That's all I have to say, along with another deep, deep look, and I can see the decision in her eyes – such beautiful eyes… Dammit! – before she even opens her mouth and declares that death suspicious. Security guy looks nonplussed, but I don't really care, even when he looks as if he wants to eat me when I give him back the tickets for the VIP seats.
Not that I care, after all, we've got a murder investigation now and I had to make Maura guess to make that happen, did I mention that I hate when that happens? I don't wanna make her upset or uncomfortable, I wanna make her happy and feel like she's jumping through a field of daisies. Jeez, how tacky, get a grip, Rizzoli. Still, I'm totally not crushing on her.
"The murder weapon is a cylindrical, heavy, hard object", Maura tells me while she studies an x-ray of dead guy's head, and for once I'm not looking at her, but at one of our other forensic guys spraying a baseball bat with Luminol so if there's any blood on it, it'll show in the phosphor light they are using.
"Gee, what could it be?" I pretend to be thinking out loud, "think it's a pipe?"
"A pipe is too thin", Maura tells me, did she even hear the sarcasm in my voice? No, wait, I forgot, she's not good with sarcasm.
"What about a majorette's baton?" I go on anyway, and now she catches on, evidenced by her reply.
"I'm glad you find my scientific approach amusing", she says, and I swear she has that tiny little smile on her face, I can tell from the sound of her voice without even looking at her, and I lo—like that smile so much, so I almost turn to look at her, but then forensic guy starts walking towards us, so I don't and instead I tell her "I think it's a bat, Maura."
Forensic guy enters, gives me the bat and tells me they found blood, so immediately, my guess is proven correct, go me. Not that it was hard to guess this correctly.
"Now, how do I prove that Manny swung the bat?" I think out loud again, only it's for real this time, and Maura says something about doing my "gumshoe thing", wait, what? Okay whatever, I tell her I can't do that this time because every baseball fan of Boston will be against me – I will be going after the Pilgrims' superstar after all – and she tries to make some sort of pop culture reference while talking about how the public is reluctant to hold celebrities responsible for crimes. With a silent film star, for cryin' out loud. I really need to teach her about more… recent references she might use.
"Stop", I tell her, then Frost interrupts us before I can lecture her on how pop culture references should reference pop culture of the current time, not from, like, a hundred years ago, and tells us that our victim was a druggie, as well. Great idea, hiring a druggie to be the sober coach for someone else.
As if that interruption wasn't enough, Korsak pages me, so I'll have to go and leave Maura… alone, here in the morgue I mean, I don't really wanna, but well, the job's the job.
"I'm off!" I say with more force than necessary, prep-talking myself into leaving, "to do my gumshoe thing."
"I shouldn't have used that term", Maura realizes, and I smirk while I tell her that no, she shouldn't have, and then I swear she makes my knees go all jello-ish on me by telling me that the term refers to galoshes – which I'm not wearing, I may not be on top of the fashion, but come on – and then letting out this cute little giggle. Man, that was so adorable, I just wanna pinch her cheeks and then kiss them to make it better and… Dammit!
Quickly, I just give her another smirk and then I turn and leave, before I might do something that I'll regret. But I'm totally not crushing on her.
After talking to the poor son of our victim and paying a little visit to our prime suspect, I call Jesse, he of the bad pick-up lines, for an interview; he agrees to do it, and invites me to some high-class French restaurant, and I accept – after making it clear that it'll be strictly business and that I'll be on the job. I'm so not interested in him in any other way.
Only after I hung up, I realize that I have no idea what this place is like where he'll go with me, so I have to drop by in Maura's office and ask her about it, I mean, she knows about that stuff, it's totally not a pretence or anything so I can get to talk to her again, I really don't have to do that anymore at that stage of our straight, platonic friendship.
Of course she knows about the place, and of course she tells me that I can't go there wearing my current clothes – actually, she's not really telling me that, but the way she asks me if I'm out of my mind makes it plainly obvious – so I tell her why I'm going there and whom I'm going to meet. And she actually says the unpronounceable name of the restaurant and then adds "Le Booty Call." And smirks. What did she just say?
"What did you just say", I flatly ask her, I mean, as if I'd let anyone have a booty call but Mau—as if I'd let anyone have a booty call.
"I know", she tells me, did she read my mind or what? and then she takes off her jacket, and then she says two words I never would have thought I'd hear from her, especially not directed at me.
"Unzip me."
What?
"What?"
"Unzip me", she repeats.
Why?
"Why?" I wanna know, I'm not sure if I sound freaked out or whatever, glorious mental images of unzipping Maura are dancing in front of my inner eye.
"Because you can't go like that", she says, even sounding a bit indignant, she really wants me to unzip her? Jesus, I think I'm gonna faint.
I hope she doesn't notice how my hands tremble as I step up to her and do what she asked, or at least try to – suddenly, my hands are not only shaky, but also sweaty, and it takes me two tries to get a proper grip on that ridiculously small zipper. Stupid zipper… I hold my breath while I pull it down, exposing her back and the strap… of… her… bra… Hands even sweatier now and even shakier, breathing a bit too fast, she'll notice, uh-oh, so much about totally not crushing on her.
If she notices, she doesn't let it show, she just waits until I unzipped her fully. Which takes me forever because the damn zipper is so tiny and it keeps slipping out of my grip and anyway I'm distracted by her beautiful back and before I know what I'm doing, I'm running my fingers over the skin and she actually leans her head back a bit and lets out this tiny, barely audible sigh…
I realize what I'm doing and jerk my hand away from her back and quickly pull the zipper down fully, I think I actually almost tore it, and then I turn away from her, mumbling something about how she can change now, but the real reason is that I don't want her to see the lust that's surely in my eyes now, don't want her to notice that I breathe faster and that my heart is racing.
Man. I'm totally crushing on Maura. I really need someone to slap some sense into me.