A/N: This is my hastily written attempt to have some fun and end these characters' stories the way I feel they should be ended. I also wanted to try and write a one-shot to prove something - a story can be about side characters and still bring Jane and Maura closer together. I think that's something the writers of Rizzoli and Isles have lost. I don't know if I succeeded, either, but hey. Lastly, I didn't add this to Lesser Works because it's so long; it feels like it should stand alone.
Enjoy!
"You look so beautiful, Mrs. Rizzoli," Jane Rizzoli, preceded by the clack of her Gucci all-black oxfords on the dance floor, embraced the woman of the hour to the tune of a slow-plucked guitar and a smooth-as-silk singing voice.
"Look who's talking," said Nina, in radiant and flowing white, letting herself be taken into Jane's arms. Lyrics about love found and romance cherished wrapped around the two as they swayed, foreheads together, hands together. She bit her lip at the fingers splayed against her back, at the way Jane's shoulders felt so strong under her own palm. String lights glittered and flittered about them, bouncing off of Jane's hair, flowing and wild as usual. Nina herself indulged in the way they looked together in that light, the way they must have looked to the guests in the hall, all vaulted ceilings and log cabin appeal. "I am so glad you decided on the tux," she said in Jane's ear as the detective led them across the floor in fluid sweeps.
Jane's eyes crinkled shut and she bared her teeth, intoxicated Nina with her smile, her laugh. "I didn't really have a choice, did I? You and Maura made sure of that."
Nina rolled her eyes, but took a little refuge from the eyes on them in the lavender of Jane's perfume. That, combined with her androgynous attire, proved a heady mixture, one that strengthened her. "You'd rather have worn a dress?" when Jane blushed, her answer obvious, Nina nodded against the taller woman's forehead. "Mhmm. That's what I thought. And let me just say, for the record, there is no sight more delicious than a Rizzoli in a suit. It's not fair, really."
Jane's eyes turned dark in pride and a little gratitude. She paid the few dancers around them no mind, not when Nina's coffee skin, embraced so tightly by her wedding dress, perfectly contrasted her own olive tones, so debonair in black and a bowtie. "I've been told that before," she said.
"Because it's the truth," Nina replied, resting her wedding band against the black on Jane's arm to complete the picture of them, intertwining their fingers to feel Jane's own left-hand accessory. They danced in silence for a few moments more, until the music and the champagne took over, making her vulnerable. "Thank you for what you did last night; like I said - you're my hero," she said, letting her own words, memories of the last 24 hours touch her, laying her head on Jane's shoulder.
Jane let her, put her own head against Nina's and chuckled. "No matter how good looking we are, sometimes Rizzolis just need a kick in the ass," she said, and felt Nina laugh against the hand on her back. "Any regrets?" she then asked in a whisper, knowing she'd be heard even above the loving clamor around them.
"I have one that I keep coming back to," said Nina, pulling back up to look Jane in her handsome, now confused face.
One of those immaculate Italian brows curled halfway to heaven. "Really," Jane said, not asked. Her mouth elongated the vowel as though she were waiting for Nina to establish the joke.
"Yes," Nina replied instead. Earnestly she said, "I should have found you all sooner. You all should have come into my life sooner- but then I remember everything happens for a reason, and maybe the timing is just right."
Jane, taken aback, laid a kiss on her hair.
"So, if I could just get everyone who's in the foyer to enter the chapel now, that'd be great," a frazzled-looking minister in black slacks and a lavender shirt shouted from his perch at the altar of Covenant Evangelical church. His head, partly bald and partly covered by wispy gray hairs, bobbed above the bodies gathering in the pews facing him. He pressed the rim of his glasses up with an index finger, and waved his arms to herd in the last few stragglers past the doors.
He looked to the woman seated in the first row - small, stout, African-American and in what looked like her Sunday's best on a Friday - and smiled at her. She was one of the few faces he recognized from services throughout the week - seated around her were the other three that he knew, her daughters. Their resemblance to one another couldn't be disputed; the youngest with a fiery intelligence in her eyes that the other sisters shared, albeit more subtle in them, the middle with her hand on her mother's thigh, the way he had seen all three of them do at one point or another during their many visits. The oldest, she carried the link between her sisters and their mother - the broad shoulders of a life that was filled with burden, but also filled with exuberance.
And she was getting married to the Italian fellow standing toward the left side-entrance of the church.
"Hey Tommy, Pop, sit down already, alright? We're trying to get this thing started," Jane Rizzoli bellowed out into the center aisle in a way that Pastor Bill had been too courteous to do. It was ten times more effective than his polite hollering, however, and in came the rest of the family toward the front of the church.
Jane was, unlike the women up front, not dressed for Sunday. She was dressed like a Catholic person who had no idea what to do in Covenant Evangelical church - short-sleeve navy button up, collared with a men's cut, and gray slacks rolled up at the ankle to expose the tops of her oxford shoes. Put quite plainly, she looked like Maura had dressed her, save the aviators on the top of her head and the Red Sox watch on her wrist. She marched her youngest brother and her father down the aisle with her wide walk and more than a few light shoves, and once they were seated next to Angela and Maura herself, Jane stepped off to the side to join Frankie.
Her middle brother, a steady hand for her in times of strife, one of her best friends, was marrying Nina Holiday the next afternoon, and getting the two families together for a rehearsal, a dinner to follow, and a wedding the next day had been a miracle in and of itself. Because, despite how much Jane depended on Frankie to be an emotional rock, he depended on her to get shit done. Most of the Holidays lived in Chicago; Nina's mom and siblings had followed her here, to Boston; the Rizzolis seemed only to gather around each other when most inconvenient - tell them about a wedding and suddenly everyone's got vacations and birthdays and new girlfriends to work around (here's lookin' at you, Pop). Jane, Frankie, and Tommy, and even Maura, though she'd be loath to admit it, were both missing a Red Sox playoff game for this - but not once did they complain, or try to get everyone else to reschedule (here's lookin' at you, cousin Danny, Frankie's best friend growing up and one of the many family flakes). So, here they stood, a groom and his sister having pulled off the impossible.
"Ok!" Shouted Pastor Bill, and slowly the chatter around him died down, "is everyone here?"
"I think so," said Nina, stunning in a purple cocktail dress - cap-sleeved with a cut out design across the chest and shoulders. She looked around at the group of 30 or 40 people and caught the eye of her fiancé, who smiled at her in a way that only they could understand. Jane watched them, smirking a little to herself, happy for the both of them. She also tapped her foot, however, impatient for the beginning of the practice.
It was, much to her disdain, warm in the church, no air conditioning in the old building. The cherry pews, stone floors, and magenta aisle carpet created a rustic ambience for its chapel; the stain glass windows, adorned simply with doves and a few crosses, reminded everyone that they stepped into a hallowed arena. The church grounds were even more beautiful: standing just outside the city allowed the trees and ivy outside to flourish in open spaces, without the constant bustling of Boston proper. Still, summer air still hovered around them though it was early October, hovered in the way that churches usually cultivate: stifling, reminiscent of an unseen presence the way it hung around on people's chests and gave them a propensity to feeling something. Perfect for a sermon, perfect for a wedding - there shouldn't be a dry eye in the house. But now, Jane, just like the rest of her family and she assumed the Holidays, too, did not welcome the wet feeling sliding down her back and underneath her arms, even if the venue was beautiful.
"I know it's hot in here," the pastor nudged with a wink in her and Frankie's direction, and for a moment she remembered the clairvoyance of priests and other messengers of God, "so we'll jump right in. How are you all?"
"Wonderful, good, happy," all words heard from Nina's side of the party, and from Maura, who sat holding Angela's hand easily against her own on Frankie's side of the chapel.
"Melting," was Tommy Rizzoli's response, no doubt true as he still wore the shirt and tie expected of him at work; it earned a chuckle from his father and a slap against his head from his mother to the side of him and his wife behind him. He rubbed the sore spot with little more than an ouch, and his two children laughed at the display.
"Well, I'm glad to hear most of us are well and not in a puddle like Mr. Rizzoli here," said Pastor Bill with a good-natured smirk. "So, I'm the head pastor here at Covenant Evangelical, and I will be officiating this lovely affair tomorrow," when the room swelled with applause and a few polite amens from Nina's family, he took a silly bow. "Now, let's get right to it. Nina," he turned to her and smiled warmly. She smiled back. "Most of the rest of my spiel relies on how you plan to get everyone up here," he said pointing to the altar where he stood. "Would you like to hear your options?"
"I think I have a good idea of what I want, but yes, please," she said.
"Alright, perfect. So, this can go one of three ways. We can have both the bridesmaids and the groomsmen be standing with Frank as he waits," he said, standing where the groom would be. "Well, you know what, let's let you see this with the actual faces you'll be looking at tomorrow. Frank, can I get you to come over here?"
Frankie looked a little petrified as he was called upon, a little like being taken higher than you expected in the playground pickup game. It took a nudge from his sister's elbow on his sweaty back to get him in motion. "Sure, pastor," he said, always respectful despite his shaky New England words. He stumbled for a split second when he got up the small step, looked to his soon-to-be wife for comfort; she tried not to laugh, and offered him a nod as if to say you're more than alright. He looked so like Jane up there, the way we stood up when called and even the way he was dressed - shirt black and not navy, slacks not rolled up, dress shoes that only seemed more stylish than comfortable (a Rizzoli never picks style over comfort), but still each cut against their frames were the same. If she can do this, thought Nina, so can you.
"Great. Now Nina: your first option, maybe the most merciful for your groom given he'd have someone to talk to as he tries not to lose his mind," at that, Pastor Bill received a chuckle from his audience, "is to have the wedding party already in place when you walk down the aisle. Can I get the groomsmen over here please, to stand right behind Frank?" at his words, Jane left her spot against the wall and walked slowly up to her brother, taking Tommy's hand as he also walked up to do so. Danny Rizzoli came up last, a handsome blend of their father's brother and the darker shades of the Talucci family, in a polo and slacks. He gave a thumbs up to his cousin who sweated buckets in the meantime.
Jane sympathized, grabbed Frankie's shoulder and squeezed it. "Relax, will ya?" she whispered in his ear, "this is just the rehearsal. And the real thing isn't so bad, trust me." He nodded, and breathed a little easier, patting her hand while it still rested on him.
Tommy chimed in. "Yeah, bro. You won't be thinking about much else but Nina. So just chill out."
Frankie rolled his eyes when he turned to look at his brother, but all in good fun. Mostly he wondered how in the world he was the last one to get married when he had dated more people growing up than the both of them combined. Jane never really focused on romance, and Tommy, well, neither he nor the girls he hung out with ever stuck around long enough to call it anything more than a fling. Needless to say, Frankie didn't think he'd be the last man (sibling?) standing. One look at Nina looking back at him, though, and he knew she was worth the wait.
"Next, let me get the bridesmaids to stand here, across from them. I'll be the blushing bride, for reference," Pastor Bill said, and another smattering of chuckles traveled the room. Nina's sisters Whitney and Tatiana walked with confidence to their spots behind the pastor, and smiled when Maura got up to join them as the last in line. She smoothed the imaginary wrinkles away from the lap of her dress that complemented Jane: navy, no sleeves, gray dress heels. She belonged among them with her poised walk and feminine aura, and they gave her a chemistry that heading a house full of Rizzolis hadn't: the Holiday sisters had style and grace, things she enjoyed, things she felt comfortable in. Jane knew, too, that this was Maura's element; the smirk she sent Maura's way confirmed that. Maura winked back, her lips pursed in a closed smile. "Ow!" Jane yelped when she felt Tommy's elbow at her side, and she scowled when she saw him winking at her exaggeratedly, salaciously. "Quit it, Tommy," she whispered. Danny's giggle behind them didn't help matters. Grace, Rizzoli-style.
"Now, that is option one. Option two is similar, but a little less kind to Frank - the party would file in from the side doors as soon as the music starts. Option three is the most traditional: each groomsman will pair with a bridesmaid and will precede you down the aisle as Frank waits for you, given that you've elected not to have a best man or a maid of honor," Pastor Bill explained.
"That's the one I want," said Nina as she shared a smile with her sisters. "It's the one I've always pictured. Sorry, Mr. Rizzoli," she gave Frankie a apologetic eye-twinkle, and he just shrugged and nodded, figuring from the beginning she'd pick the one that had him roasting all alone for the longest. At least his big sister would be the first to get to him.
"Well then, we can definitely practice that. So, are you being given away tomorrow?" asked the Pastor as he turned to her.
"Yes, by my mother," she answered, grasping her mother's hand. Olivia Holiday, the only one in the room dressed for church, the only one in the room who believed that one should be in her Sunday's best if she were stepping foot into the chapel, no matter the day or occasion, nodded.
"Excellent," said the pastor. "Now, if I could have the party go out into the foyer and close the doors, I'll come get you when I've told those in the audience what they need to do. I suggest you pair up with the person you've been assigned to, so you get to know what it's like to walk with them."
So they did, leaving Frankie at the altar. Nina chatted with her mother as they exited first, and the rest followed. Whitney, being first in Nina's line as the oldest after her, grabbed Jane's arm lightly. Jane, hand still in her pocket, smiled handsomely at her. "Hey Whitney," she greeted.
Whitney, all of 5'8 with darker skin than her sisters and in a killer red dress returned the favor. "Hey Jane," she said, happy to be walking with someone taller than her and to be walking with the most grown of the three Rizzolis in Frankie's party. "I'm sorry that you're not walking with Maura."
"No need. We're attached at the hip every other part of the day, right?" said Jane, a lovingness in her voice that couldn't be denied. She nodded to Nina, who held open the door for them.
"Well, she's beautiful. But overall, I'd say we're the best looking couple out of the three," Whitney said with a wink. Jane laughed easily.
"Hey, me and Tatiana heard that," Tommy grumbled from behind them, holding Tatiana's hand identical to the way that Jane held Whitney's. He raised a perfect Rizzoli eyebrow and pursed his lips.
"Sho' did," Tatiana bit back with a wicked simper. "You just mad because Tommy and I are younger than you," she said through a good-willed chuckle, turning to show off her body in the white cocktail dress she wore.
Whitney rolled her eyes, but laughed. "Don't act like Jane and I haven't aged like a fine wine."
"I don't know," Jane said. "Maura'd have a chance if she weren't paired with Danny's ugly mug," her eyes crinkled and her lips curled up when she watched the last couple walk through the doorway, a flash of Pastor Bill's voice here and gone with the swinging of the hinges.
"If I squint enough, he looks like you," said Maura, squeezing Danny's hand so that he let her go and walking over to Jane, whose hair turned from black to brown in the dying light of the sun, whose skin carried a tan from the summer heat.
Jane blushed at the clapback. "Is that a compliment to him or an insult to me?"
"Depends. How do you take it?" asked Maura. She sauntered forward slowly and snaked her arms under Jane's, relished how those shoulder blades flexed under her hands as Jane put an arm around her shoulders.
Jane didn't give herself a chance to stick her foot in her mouth, and instead stuck her mouth on Maura's; they kissed long and loud and slow, and then quick and quiet and short as others sparked side conversations around them.
"You two need a room?" Nina interrupted, mirth plastered all over her face - she raised her eyebrow and stifled a laugh, joining the fray of her party as her mother left the young people to read the church bulletin.
"Yeah, Jane," chuckled Danny. "you shouldn't steal the bride and groom's thunder."
Nina laughed out loud then. "Danny speaks the truth," she said, touching his back. He was the Rizzoli that Frankie saw most outside of his siblings - they had had their fair share of late conversations over beer and their fare share of Madden wars, and so Danny and Nina had, too. She was glad when Frankie had picked him.
Jane only stuck out her tongue, just in time for Pastor Bill to swing open the doors and witness it. Grace, Rizzoli style. "Um," he stammered, face-to-face with the tongue that had just become reacquainted with Maura's, "If all of you could get in formation, starting with those closest to the bride and groom, you'll all walk down to the altar," he instructed, and held the door open with his backside. Jane and Maura parted, Jane and Whitney linked arms again, and started their march down the aisle. "You want to be way slower than that," he shouted from behind, "it'll feel unnatural, but walk slow enough that people can get one or two unblurry pictures," they altered their pace, apparently to his liking, because he gave them a head nod they couldn't see. "That's it, that's what I want to see. Can the rest of you copy that?"
The party nodded, eyes on them all the way until Jane stepped up behind Frankie and Whitney waited all alone where her sister would soon be. Tommy and Tatiana followed, giggling to one another softly as they ironed out the kinks of walking in unison, one foot in front of the other. "This is harder than it looks," Tommy said to no one in particular, and the members of both families that he passed chuckled along with him. Maura and Danny followed behind, Maura's training kicking in for the both of them - they were by far the most measured couple, if Jane and Whitney were the most comfortable, and Tommy and Tatiana were the most lively.
When they had all found their spots, however, standing with the rest of the audience and looking toward the doors, the only couple that mattered was the one whose second half was gliding with her mother toward the altar.
Pisa Bella met all the requirements of a 'fancy restaurant': there were no large tables, no booths, no tacky paintings or fading wallpaper on the walls. An outside balcony showcased the dying foliage that created Massachusetts' famous fall profile. On top of its understated beauty as a modern eating establishment, each item on the menu had an Italian name - a true Italian name, not just the basics, like spaghetti and lasagne, so that even the Rizzolis struggled with pronunciations foreign to their Sicilian lips. With all of that, it smacked of a place that the groom's parents could never afford, but, Angela knew just about every Italian place in the city and its surrounding suburbs. So of course, she knew the Florentine couple that owned Pisa Bella, and as payback for a favor, she scored a closed door gathering for 40 of the bride and groom's closest friends and family.
A deal was struck, over wine and a little lesson in Sicilian dialect: Frankie's rehearsal dinner would take place at Pisa Bella if Angela gave them her cannoli recipe. And by the way Frankie kissed his mother on the cheek, loudly and in front of everyone at a nearby table, he knew just what this little slice of heaven cost.
"What was that for?" Angela laughed as she kissed him back, smelling his cologne under her lips and thinking just how much he had grown.
"For this. Maybe it wasn't a lot of money, but I know the cost was steep," he said. He hugged her tight against his body and growled with affection. "And I know Pop didn't help you."
"He's here, Frankie," said Angela. She grabbed his face between her forefinger and thumb. "I learned in therapy a long time ago you gotta let that be enough."
"It's enough," Frankie replied, showing off a satisfied smile, teeth and all. "Frankly, that you got all these Rizzolis to show up is a minor miracle in and of itself, Ma. Beyond Janie and Tommy, I didn't know who was gonna be here."
"They love you. And some of them had to be reminded that they love you," she said through the side of her mouth and her son chuckled, "but once they were, they were all on their way." They stopped for a moment and surveyed the room together, happy with the successful mingling of the families, and Angela pointed discreetly toward the crowd just to their left: Jane, beer in one hand, Maura's hand in the other, Maura throwing her head back in laughter at something Tatiana said, Tommy with his son in his grip and Lydia holding their daughter to her side as they both nodded thoughtfully. "Look at your brother and sister, Frankie. Did you ever think they'd get married before you?"
"Wow, Ma. Way to make a guy feel special at his own party," grumbled Frankie with a twinkle in his eye.
His Ma socked him in the arm and he yelped. "Not what I meant and you know it."
"I know. Honestly? I always thought Tommy had the highest chance of getting married first because he'd be the most likely to knock somebody up," he said, a mock severity on his face. A beat passed, then two, and then he and Angela were laughing loudly together.
"And wouldn't you know it, that's exactly what happened!" Angela wheezed as she dabbed her eyes with a tissue. "Oh my goodness."
"But Jane, I didn't think she'd ever get married," said Frankie, watching his sister put her hand on Tatiana's shoulder and nodding with affection.
"Oh I knew as soon as that girl walked through the front door," Angela whispered, hugging her son tight to her side.
"Maura?" at Frankie's question, she nodded. "That was years ago. I don't even think Janie knew then."
"Trust me, honey. Somewhere deep down, she knew, too," Angela always said things that were impulsive and brash. But, she also always said things that were truthful, impactful. This time, her words jostled Frankie, made him sweat and look at Nina with longing and anxiety. Then he looked back at his sister and gulped.
"Would you excuse me, Ma?" he asked.
"Of course. Go hang out with your brother and sister. They miss you," she nodded, and watched him shuffle toward them. Maybe she threw her eyes up toward the ceiling in a little prayer, too.
Frankie made his way over, passing through tables and the chatter of groups in the low lighting of the restaurant. It was dark out now, and the string lights throughout the place created a cozy feel. At least, he would have felt cozy if 39 of his and Nina's closest friends and family weren't also packed into the dining room. Frankie never did well with crowds. He hated them at work near crime scenes, forced himself to tolerate them at sporting events. No, like his older sister, he'd rather have a night in with a few people than be the center of a bash thrown for many - so, after he stopped to hug Olivia Holiday, he stepped up to the bar and ordered himself a cranberry vodka, something smooth, something that looked celebratory but that also would loosen him up a bit.
Then, with a deep breath in and his safety net in his hand, he entered the fray in between Jane and his cousin Danny. "Hey Frankie," Jane greeted, slapping his back, hard. Doing so had to be an integral part of Rizzoli DNA, because he couldn't count the times it had happened to him in the last few hours. "Finally taking the plunge, huh?"
He gulped. "Yeah," the vowels ratcheted up on the heels of a nod.
"Don't be so nervous. Nina's great; you're lucky to be latching onto her for life," said Jane with a mischievous grin.
"Who said I was nervous?" Frankie asked as he raised an eyebrow at her.
She clinked her beer bottle against the drink in his hand. "This foo-foo cocktail, brother."
He flushed. "I like cocktails, so sue me."
"You like cocktails when you get all sweaty and anxious. Remember graduating the academy? The night before the detective's exam? We went to the bar and you ordered a fuzzy navel, both times," Jane said through a chuckle and a sip of her own drink.
"Yeah, yeah. And to think, I came to ask you for advice," Frankie rolled his eyes.
Jane softened. "What did you need?"
"No, it's too late now, you ruined it. Moment ruined."
"C'mon, Frankie."
He smirked at how quickly he could turn the tables on her. "Alright. I was just talkin' to Ma, you know?"
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Oh god, the night before you get married?"
"I know, I know. But we were talkin' about you."
Jane straightened up at the statement, pulling her head back to scrutinize her brother. "Me? What for?"
"Calm down; it was good stuff. Like, you and Maura good stuff," Frankie said, pointing to the woman who was deep in conversation with one of Nina's doctor cousins.
"You're right, that is good stuff," Jane smiled. Frankie wasn't sure how he should take the statement, so he brushed it off. Better than being grossed out or having to deal with the fallout of his sister becoming a sap.
"Yeah. And I just, I dunno, Janie. I dunno if I'm gonna be as good as it as you are," He smiled, an aura of self-deprecation wafting off of him.
Jane rolled her eyes. "Marriage isn't an inherited skill. If it was, we'd both be shit out of luck," when she nodded over to the table where her parents sat, Frankie half-laughed. "Marriage is just about being best friends with somebody forever. Basically. You work on it together, you fight together, you shop together, you go out together, and if you're lucky you sleep together. Hell, in my case, you even work together. It's just about being with that person. Being present. Living life together, being with them more than you're with anyone else." Frankie downed the rest of the drink in his glass and grimaced, but his sister was too busy waving back to Maura to notice. "I'm sure you'd love for me to talk your ear off some more, but I'm being summoned. You good?" she asked, already stepping away.
He raised his empty tumbler and nodded. Christ, Jane could be intense. And Christ - for a detective, she could be so obtuse. Was his drink gone already?
"Hey Frank," he heard behind him, and turned to see Danny, two brand new beers in his hand. Frankie took one of them from him and raised it in a salute.
"Hey Dan. Thanks."
"Last night of being single, huh?" Danny asked, smirking when Frankie shuddered. Danny was younger and rowdier than the Rizzoli siblings, but in at least one way he was like them: he had an uncanny knack for pushing people's buttons, and right now, Frankie's lit up like a christmas tree. "I'm gonna be the last one after tomorrow."
"Yup," answered Frankie with a chug.
"Not feelin' too hot about it, huh?"
"Nah, that's not it."
"But Janie wasn't helpin'."
Frankie looked around to make sure that no one would hear what he had to say next. "She definitely wasn't helpin'. I wanna marry Nina; I'm ready to marry her. But I'm nervous as hell, and I'm not Jane, you know? She loves being with Maura 24/7. That just ain't me."
Danny shrugged. "Doesn't have to be you. Nina seems cool; I'm sure she'll get it."
"See, I don't know. Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm just panicking about taking the plunge," said Frankie, looking for the last drop of his beer and finding no luck.
"You know what's good for that?" asked Danny. He threw an arm around his cousin's shoulders and squeezed, knocking their heads together as they surveyed the preoccupied crowd around them.
"What?" Frankie replied, desperate for something he couldn't quite place.
"Drinkin'. Real drinkin'."
"We have to be up early… in the morning. Should we be doing this?" Maura asked a question that she didn't want to hear the answer to; her voice hitched and she closed her eyes so she could breathe in and focus. Centered.
"I'm not the one who mounted me for the third time, Maura," Jane groused as she got lost in her own pleasure.
Maura had done exactly that - in a sheen of sweat and in hotel sheets draped around her hips, she had climbed above Jane again that night, naked, and rubbed her hands everywhere they would reach. "Don't tell me you'd rather I removed myself, Jane." Jane's hands were on her own face, her mouth slack and creating a hollow sound each time she panted against her fingers, and Maura's heart melted with pity. She bent her body low enough for her bobbing chest to hover over Jane's, and she grabbed Jane's hands to hold them above her head. She smiled, and Jane blushed her answer - there was nowhere, sappy as the idea was, that she would rather Maura be. "Oh, my love," Maura chuckled, kissing reluctant lips, winding her hips enough for her wife to groan.
"Yeah, yeah," Jane grumbled, not-so-secretly pleased by Maura's vicinity. She grabbed the thighs on either side of her and squeezed the flesh there, shutting her eyes hard enough to see the lights of their Liberty Inn suite on the backs of her eyelids. "No more talking."
They kissed again, fall breeze tumbling in against them from the small crack in the bedroom window, Jane letting herself go in the wet familiarity of Maura's lips against hers, Maura's hands intertwined with her hands, Maura's ass on the base of her pelvis… until their hotel phone screamed against the backdrop of their hurried panting. "Are you kidding me?" Jane barked as the two of them jumped from the sound.
"No, no, no," Maura pouted as she reached over for the receiver anyway. Jane smacked her hand away from the nightstand, refused to let them stop making love as she moved her hips double time in Maura's place.
"Do NOT answer that," she said.
Maura, never one to be ordered about, but always one for a compromise, shrugged her shoulders and kept a slow and tidy rhythm between them. "It's Nina's room," she replied as she pointed to the caller ID and picked up, sitting up with Jane still between her legs, phone to her ear and hands on Jane's abdomen for steadiness. "Hello?"
Jane huffed and threw her head back on the pillow under it. "Really?" she mouthed as Maura somehow managed to be both salacious and mannerly all at once. She looked up, however, when the woman on top of her literally ground to a halt.
"Wait, slow down," said Maura. tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "When was the last time you saw him?" At the question, Jane arched a brow, pushing up on her palms to try and read Maura's face. She felt dread travel down her spine when Maura put a hand on her chest, the cool wedding band sparking goosebumps along her skin. Detective senses activate. "Do you want to talk to Jane?"
Apparently Nina did, because Jane suddenly had a receiver in her face. "What?" she asked.
Maura kissed her, this time apologetic and not lustful, and rolled away. "Your brother is not where he should be."
Jane looked to her for more of an explanation, but Maura was already sitting up on the foot of the bed. "Hey Nina," she said, voice more hoarse than usual. "You talk to him yet? Nah, I got it. I'll be right over to get his key, alright? Gimme like five seconds to get dressed."
Maura had already started to gather her clothes, and snatched Jane's sweatshirt before the other woman could. "It's warm, and you're leaving me," she reasoned when Jane whined. "Is your brother alright?"
"No. At least, he won't be when I'm done with him," said Jane. She rubbed her face and yawned, contemplating the true price of what she was about to do: leaving her warm bed well past midnight, not to return until god knows when. "He can't even be bothered to answer his phone. Why are you getting up?"
"I'm going with you to Nina's room - she shouldn't be alone right now. Plus, I'm not going to pout in here all by myself while you go to rescue Frankie. How are you going to find him?" asked Maura, pulling a pair of yoga pants out of her overnight bag in the corner and tugging the Patriots sweater over her head. "He could be anywhere in the city."
"Oh I already know where he is," Jane answered. She stood and took a sheet wrapped around her lower half into the bathroom, stomping in annoyance as she grabbed her own set of clothes and slammed the door shut.
"Hi," Nina sniffled when she saw Jane and Maura on the other side of her hotel room door.
"Hey," Jane smiled softly, tiredly, in her direction. It was her tender smile, the one that squinted her eyes and softened her lips, still closed around her teeth. "You got that room key for me?"
Nina nodded and handed it to her. She reddened at the sight of her friends, Maura in her ensemble, Jane in her joggers and a rumpled t-shirt, felt embarrassed about having pulled them from their room for the reason she was. "I can't believe he didn't take it with him. Where the hell is he? Is he safe? Did he get cold feet?" She rolled her eyes as a fat tear made its way down her cheek, embarrassed at that, too.
Maura shook her head and hugged Nina tight.
"No, he's not leaving you. He's out somewhere, drunk as hell, is all. And I'll bring him back safe and sound," Jane said, flashing her car keys. "Your sisters here to make sure you're ok?"
"No," Nina answered, "and I don't really want them to know what's happening, if you don't mind."
Jane nodded; she knew how to be discreet. "Alright. Well, I'll let you know when I find him," she said. Maura let Nina go, kissed Jane goodbye, and then ushered Nina inside the room.
"You're not going with her?" Nina asked Maura, almost incredulous at the idea that they would separate in such a moment.
"Not when you need a shoulder to cry on and an alcoholic beverage," Maura winked as she looked through the minibar. The room for Nina and Frankie, a suite that matched hers and Jane's, had been one of her gifts to the couple. Now, though, she figured her companion wouldn't want to be looking at its four walls as her fiance pranced around town.
"Thank you," said Nina, simply. She grabbed the blanket that Maura handed to her, and followed her out the door in the living area that led to the courtyard. She had to laugh when she realized what was happening. "Are we getting drunk off the minibar in the hotel courtyard?"
Maura didn't turn around, but Nina saw her shoulders shrug. "Well, drunk is a strong word," said Maura, "but alcohol is a pleasant balm for many of life's… inconveniences."
They came to a clearing with a few low-seated lawn chairs and took their seats. She handed Nina a mini bottle of a cabernet, and they stayed quiet for a long while. Sometimes, Nina's sighs would punctuate the silence, sometimes it was the rustle of Maura crossing and uncrossing her legs.
"Is this what it's like to be a Rizzoli?" Nina finally scoffed, and she dabbed at her eyes with the tissue from her sweatpants pocket. Crickets chirped around her as the chill of the early-October evening settled in, and she tucked the beige hotel blanket on her lap even tighter under her thighs.
"Do you want my honest answer?" Maura asked as she sipped the wine she had in her hand. 1AM air made her bold, and so did being out in the courtyard of the Liberty Inn, with her mussed hair in a bun and a Patriots sweatshirt over her body. Frankie Rizzoli, damn him, was MIA - Nina was distraught, worried, and mad as hell, a juxtaposition to the perfection of the night that hovered between summer and autumn. A few lanterns dotted the trees around them, but the truest light came from the moon, with no resistance from clouds. Nina needed clarity in this moment: a hand in hers, some alcohol, and maybe the truth, should she be able to stomach it.
"Please," Nina answered. She squeezed back when Maura squeezed her hand. "I won't settle for anything else the night before my wedding."
Maura nodded and pursed her lips in sympathy. "The answer is yes. Unequivocally, this is what it's like to be a Rizzoli. We worry about them, they run off into the night and sometimes you have no idea where they are. Sometimes they jump off bridges and out of buildings. And sometimes they disappear when going out for milk," she answered, flexing her feet, stretching out her legs under her own blanket. She smirked when she caught Nina's eye-roll in her peripheral.
"And you're ok with that?!" Nina yelped, laughing despite herself.
"Well, no," Maura said as she weighed her possible responses. "But we love them, so we compromise. Are you having second thoughts?"
"No. And that's what scares me. I am having zero second thoughts and he's god-knows-where," said Nina, "doing god-knows-what."
"Can I be honest again?" Maura asked, smiling in the face of Nina's angry tears and all the unknowns they were still facing.
Nina just nodded.
"Even if I have no idea where Jane is, I know that she's thinking about me. And I know that no matter where Frankie is, he's thinking about you, too."
"Honestly, I don't know what he's thinking about when he does this."
Maura drew her lips into a thin line as she regarded Nina there, staring at nothing except the way the leaves on the trees rustled in front of them. She surmised that Nina probably wasn't thinking about leaves at all. In fact, she knew so. From experience. "Do you remember where Jane was the night before our wedding?"
Nina had to think for a moment, back to that day. She clicked her tongue. "Cracking the Patriot's Day stabbing case wide open?"
Maura nodded. "You all didn't finish until 3 or 4 in the morning. It was a good thing that the ceremony wasn't until the evening. I was so mad, Nina. I was so mad that she did that, that she didn't hand that over to Korsak or Frankie and worry about our day instead."
"Well, what did you do? Obviously, you got married, but did you beat her ass?"
Maura laughed. "No. I confronted her, though. I asked her what in the hell she was thinking."
"What did she say?"
"She said that she wrapped the case because she didn't want anything to distract her from me on the day we got married, and she knew herself. She knew that if the search for that man went on into the morning, or waited till the next day, she would be thinking about nothing but, and I quote,'throwing his sorry ass in jail.' Then I knew - we wanted the same things. We just took different roads to get there."
Jane, 1AM tired in a wrinkled Red Sox tee, behind the wheel of her and Maura's Lexus - another compromise between them - growled when she pulled up to the bar where she saw Danny's blue Camry across the street. She parked in the fire lane just outside the front door, and gave no fucks about the disgruntled bouncer stepping towards her.
"What the hell are you doing, lady?" He asked, throwing most of his 275 pounds in her direction, adjusting his belt so that his concealed weapon just so happened to reveal itself.
Jane said nothing, only shoved her badge in his direction. He backed way off, hands in the air, but she didn't even see it - she was already inside. She always hated the way dried alcohol and body glitter and god knows what else stuck to the bottoms of her sneakers in bars and clubs. She was immediately hit by the sound of dance music and the smell of cigarettes and cranberry juice. So appealing.
She unconsciously fingered the wedding band on her hand, highlighting its presence, and when she latched eyes on her cousin and her little brother at the counter, she counted it as the sole reason she shouldn't punch either of them: her mother would kill her if she disfigured them the night before the wedding photos. "Frankie," she bellowed, loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of nightlife.
Both Danny and Frankie turned, faces white. But, Frankie was easily recognizable: he was well on his way to plastered, Danny was still plenty sober. Meaning he should have fucking known better. "Janie, it's not what it looks like, ok?" he said, trying to stop his cousin from getting to close to her brother, lest she kill him. "Ain't no girls here. Ain't been any girls the whole night, at any of the bars."
"Yeah, no girls, Janie," Frankie slurred, trying to take a sip of his beer before Jane smacked it out of his hand. "Ah! What the hell?"
"You've had enough!" She snapped, looking at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "How many bars have you been to?"
"Four," he answered, unabashed in inebriation. Danny shook his head wildly behind him.
"Four?! Really, Dan?! Girls are the least of your worries right now," she yelled. "You better get out of here before he tells me any more bullshit."
"But Jane," Danny tried to reason, holding out his hands.
"But nothing, Danny. Go to the hotel and do not open your mouth to tell me anything else," she warned, her eyebrow curled like the coil of a cornered cobra. He left with no further goading, which left Jane to turn to her brother in the crowded bar.
"Danny was helpin' me, Janie. Just," Frankie paused to cover a burp, "helpin' me. He only had two drinks. Ow!"
Jane had grabbed him by his ear and dragged him out of the bar. "He screwed you, Frankie. What the hell were you thinking?" she shoved him into the passenger seat and started the car.
"I just wanted to have some fun the night before my wedding, so sue me," Frankie grumbled in a very Jane way. He rubbed at his ear. "Hey," he said when he saw them turn left instead of right at the stop light. "You blind or somethin'?Hotel's that way."
"We're not goin' to the hotel," Jane said.
"We're not?"
"Hell no. I can't let Nina see you like this. We're going to sober you up."
Frankie sighed. He started to doze, and his sister slapped his arm when they arrived at their destination. The buzz of the fluorescent light against the void of the night sky disoriented him for a moment. When he registered the parking lot and the sign above the building he smiled. "Hey, Paulie's!"
"Yeah, Paulie's," Jane whispered. "Only place open at one in the morning. Now get out of the damn car."
He did so with little resistance, enamored with the old red booths and the fraying red carpet of the dining area. He slumped into the seat that their hostess had put them in, and browsed the menu.
"What can I get you two to drink?" Their waitress, a young woman, tall and heavyset, took a pen from behind her perfectly styled brown hair and far-too-flawless-for-early-morning makeup. Frankie opened his mouth to answer, but Jane cut him off by slamming his menu shut.
"We'll both have a cup of coffee. And if you don't mind, he'll have two large glasses of water and the big boy breakfast," she said, daring her brother to speak up.
He didn't, and the waitress, Jenna, chuckled. "Long night?"
"Don't ask," Jane said, shaking her head.
Jenna smiled in return. "I won't. But I do have to ask how he'd like his eggs."
"Over-easy. And he wants pancakes instead of toast," said Jane.
Frankie's eyes got big. "Janie, I-"
"Thanks Jenna," Jane waved her off and then glared at Frankie.
He rustled his now-messy hair. "I'm not very hungry, Jane."
"I don't care, Frankie. We've gotta soak up all that alcohol in your stomach. Fast," she sounded so much like their mother sometimes.
He sighed. "Yeah."
"That was fucked up what you and Danny did tonight, Frank. Real fucked up," Jane whispered, her voice harsh as she looked around for eavesdroppers.
Drunk Frankie, on the other hand, was a little loud. "We just went drinkin'!"
"Yeah - without telling Nina, without getting your room key from her, without taking your fucking phone! What were you thinking?!"
"I'm allowed to go out. I'm allowed to have fun."
Jane quirked a brow at him. "You're not starting marriage off on the right foot here, brother. You're not really gettin' the point.`"
Frankie waited for the waitress to set down their coffee and his food before continuing. "I'm not married yet, Jane!"
His shouting gave Jane, Jenna, and the two other patrons in the diner pause. "Alright, keep your voice down, Jesus. What the hell's wrong with you?" Jane asked, pressing her palms down on the tabletop.
"This is the last time I get to do something like this, have real fun," Frankie murmured, shoveling eggs into his mouth, washing them down with a nervous gulp of coffee.
Jane scoffed. "No way," she said, trying not to let a goofy smile take over her face. "Don't let that sexist societal shit warp your brain. Maura and I do fun stuff all the time."
He shrugged his shoulders, feeling a little exposed in his button up and slacks while his sister slumped across from her in joggers and the Varitek shirt so worn there was a hole on the shoulder. And yet, he imagined she felt no qualms while he felt all of them. "You don't think doing everything together with her is gonna get boring?"
She looked at him as if he sprouted a second head, and speared some of his pancakes. "Maura's my best friend," she said around her bite, as though it were the most natural response in the world.
"And uh, you're not afraid her being your best friend is gonna, you know, dampen the… the romance?" Frankie whispered, his eyes suddenly wide as he leaned in toward her.
She scrutinized him, rolled her eyes. "No. You know what I was doin' when Nina called me to come look for your ass?"
Frankie blinked rapidly, confused as hell. "What?" he asked.
Jane reached over and smacked the back of his head hard enough for him to spurt out some of his water. "Having sex with my wife, Frankie! Christ, I can't believe you made me say that out loud!"
"Ouch! Alright already," he said, rubbing his head. They both blushed - and Frankie huffed. "I'm not you, you know, Janie? I like me time. I like going out with Danny once in awhile, I like blowing off some steam. You'd rather stay in with Maura and, I don't know, well, do what you do."
She smirked, and he saw his father in the flash of her teeth. "So? You're not me. That's fine. And from what I remember, last time you and Danny went out, Nina was there, living it up. An invite would have been nice."
That struck him - he remembered that, too, when they went out to Foxborough and celebrated Tom Brady's 300 yards with enough Sam Adams to drown a man. Nina was there. Nina was there. He ate some hash browns dejectedly. "I fucked up."
"Yeah, you did," Jane winked, circling the top of her mug with her finger.
"And I owe you one," Frankie stopped her, taking her hand and holding it. "I am not going to fuck up the best thing to happen to me because I-"
"Let Ma scare the shit out of you?"
"Yeah. At least you know me, huh?" He said.
Jane glared at him. "It's almost two. Finish your food so I can get some sleep tonight," her words were harsh, but he felt the way she squeezed his hand, the way it said she'd never let go.
"After tonight, I don't know if he and I want the same things," Nina said, taking a hefty sip of wine. She pulled her blanket higher on her shoulders, looking over at Maura and her apparel. Her overall look, really, the comfort and the warmth.
"Well, give him a chance to explain himself first," Maura replied. "And to grovel," she added, and they shared conspiratorial twinkle.
"You know," Nina lolled her head to the side, "this is the first time I've seen you in real people clothes."
"Real people clothes?" Maura asked through a chuckle, "what do you mean?"
"Like, sports teams and… yoga pants," Nina whispered, as though they were bad words.
"Well, when its 1AM and you don't have much time to get dressed, you tend to prioritize comfort. Plus, this is Jane's, not mine," Maura pulled the hoodie closer to her body, wrapping it around her with affection.
Nina blushed. "I'm sorry," she said. "I really did not want to tell my sisters about this. I just… wouldn't be able to handle their shit right now, on top of everything else."
"There's no need to apologize," Maura assured Nina, patting her thigh, when she felt her cell phone vibrate. "It's Jane," she said, pulling it out. Nina waited on baited breath. "Hi."
"Hey," Jane's tired voice rang out on speaker phone. "How's Nina? Tell her I got him."
"You're on speaker," said Maura, "she's here, angry but okay. Are you both alright?"
"Yeah, we're good. He's in the bathroom, and then we'll be back. We're about fifteen minutes away."
"Ok, thank you for doing this, Jane," Maura called out.
Nina chimed in. "Yeah, Jane. You're my hero."
"You owe me, Holiday," Jane joked over the static. "I could have had four hours by now."
"Oh, like we were sound asleep when she called," Maura countered, and she could hear the embarrassed stutter in Jane's voice.
"Hanging up now, I love you," Jane snapped, and Nina laughed when she heard the line go dead.
"I'm sorry," she said with a hand to her chest as she caught her breath, "but I'm just so relieved that she found him."
"Me too," said Maura. Not 20 minutes later, an embarrassed Frankie Rizzoli and his sister ambled into the courtyard. Jane pushed his back as he clopped along toward Nina and Maura, sharing a smirk with her wife as they pitied him together. "Alright, Frankie. What have you got to say?"
He snatched his arm away from her and rubbed the back of his head. "You're not my Ma, Janie. Jesus," he said, but then he caught Nina's wrathful gaze. "Nina. I, uh."
She stood up, and went over to him, looking him over, front and back. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice as hard as her stare. When he nodded, she smacked him across the back of his head, the way he hated to be smacked. Not hard, but enough to make her annoyance known. "Then what the hell were you thinking?"
"I wasn't! I wasn't. I was stressed and wanted to get a few drinks. And then I made the mistake of letting Danny take me out," he explained.
"Oh hell no. You let Danny's crazy ass take you around town? You have to have lost your mind because that is never a good idea," Nina said, her voice ratcheting up a few octaves.
Maura got up, took her blanket and her wife by the arm. Jane's face had I gotta see this written all over it, and when she was pulled away she all but whined. "We're going to head back to our room. Long day tomorrow," Maura said, and then left them to one another.
And as they walked away, they heard Frankie's quiet timbre one last time. "I know it was stupid, and I'm sorry. But I know I want to marry you in the morning. There's nothing more I want to do, Nina."
"You think we gotta worry about that?" Frankie asked as he twirled Maura in his arms. She looked over his shoulder to where he nodded; Jane and Nina were locked in what must have looked, to the untrained eye, a pretty intimate embrace.
"You have nothing to worry about, Frankie. Trust me. I was there last night when you were nowhere to be found," she said. They shared a chortle, his more rueful, hers more playful.
"Yeah?" he asked, and she heard his request hidden beneath the layers.
"Yes. You came back. That's what matters. Even if you have doubts, you came back," said Maura, growing warm at the thought of his hand so respectfully placed up on her side, growing warmer at the way Jane had no patience for decorum and put her own hand far enough Nina's back to case a stir.
"I don't think I have doubts anymore, though the way Janie and Nina are all tangled up, maybe I should," he said as though he could read her mind, and they smiled together. "How do you do it, Maura?" he asked after a few moments, quiet enough so that only she could hear.
"Do what?" she asked back, honoring his quietness with her own.
"Stick around when we do crazy stuff like that," he said. She looked between them, she in her wine colored bridesmaid's attire, he in his handsome tux, as though the answer were obvious - Maura and the Rizzoli siblings belong together. Her chemistry with them was too alluring not to stick around.
She settled for something a little more light-hearted. "Jane is too good at sex to let her go," she said, laughing with a little bit of derision when Frankie's ears turned purple. "But honestly? I love you. I love all of you, because you love me. Nina's the same, Frankie. She's here to stay."
He thought for awhile, long enough for the song to end. When they stopped moving, he wrapped her up in his arms and squeezed her tight. "I couldn't ask for a better sister, Maura. Thank you."
She hugged him back until the next song started. "I think we should dance with the people we're married to," she said sweetly, and when he nodded, she caught Jane out on the floor.
They found each other easily, melded into one another effortlessly.
"I love you," Jane breathed when Maura found a home for one hand on her shoulder, the other on her chest.
Maura smirked. "I love you too. You did good, Detective Rizzoli."
Jane kissed her, their lips meeting just so. "Yeah well. We both know I've been in Frankie's shoes."
"This is not the time to remind me of your faults," Maura snarked. However, she held Jane close in contrast to her words, searching out her heartbeat with an ear to her neck.
"I don't think you're goin' anywhere," Jane replied. She watched Frankie and Nina close by, saw them smile, heard them laugh. Unequivocally, the long night had been worth it, because Nina was worth it. Maura was worth it.
"I couldn't if I tried," Maura said, closing her eyes and trusting Jane to lead.