A/N: Yes, I do own R&I and am making oodles and oodles of money, and am writing FF during my spare time. Because, you know, just writing for TV isn't enough :-/

(Just in case the sarcasm was missed by anyone, no, I do NOT own R&I, its characters, etcetera)

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Jane's POV

"Maura, how do you feel about being a bridesmaid?"

Yes, possibly that question was too abrupt and out-of-the-blue. I should probably have given the good doctor some background first. As it was, her eyes widened and her face adopted what could only be described as a slack-jawed expression.
And she still looks cute, even when she's shocked. Sorry, that thought came from nowhere. Adorable, really. That one too.

"You're getting married?" she asked, in obvious disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me before this?"

A hurt look was drawing itself on her face. Thatlook. The one that made me feel like a worm. The very worst kind of worm. Not an earth worm, because they're good for the soil or whatever. A tapeworm maybe. I hastened to explain before the look completely etched itself onto her features.

"Nunno. It's my cousin Francesca. Well actually, she's like my third cousin, umpteen-times-removed, but her family and mine are pretty close and she's getting married and I'm one of her bridesmaids, and one of her other bridesmaids very inconsiderately broke her ankle – the bridemaid's ankle, not Frankie's. Oh, my cousin's called Frankie too, by the way. Frankie and Frankie… anyway, where was I? Oh yes, bridesmaid. Apparently she can't get anyone else to help out, and you seem to fit the size profile of the broken-ankle-bridesmaid, sowouldyoubeokwithbeingasubs titutebridesmaid?"

The words rushed out like a tidal wave, and I was quite surprised that Maura wasn't gasping for air and screaming for a lifeboat by the end of my 'explanation'.

Even more surprised when she seemingly got the gist of my word-tsunami and replied with an excited "Sure, I'd love to!"

"Really?" I asked, "You don't wanna know when it is, to make sure it doesn't conflict with some important social event or anything? Or ask about the colour of the dress? Or the venue? Or the menu?" I just narrowly stopped myself from saying Venue, menu. That rhymes. Ha ha. My sense of humour had obviously abandoned me, but at least my brain-to-mouth filter was still functional.

She smiled and shook her head. "Nothing important, and even if there was, I would have cancelled it." Awww. Wait, since when did I 'awww'? Mental note to self, switch off Korsak-looking-at-puppies mode and go back to badass-detective-eagerly-listening-to-beautiful-best-friend mode. No, that's not right either. Since when did I start thinking of her as my 'beautifulbest friend'? Something's wrong with me.

"It'll be fun! I've never been a bridesmaid before!" she continued excitedly, completely unaware of the fact that her best friend was slowly but surely going bananas.

That surprised me a little. I hadn't ever been a girly girl, but even I'd been a bridesmaid a couple of times. Then again, I did have a larger family, which statistically meant more weddings… Statistically? Really Jane, when did you start 'statistically' analysing things? The adorable doctor really is rubbing off on you.

There I go again, with the beautiful and the adorable. Something is very wrong with me.

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We arrived at Frankie's (my cousin, not brother) place a few days before her wedding, which was actually only a few days after I'd extended the invitation to Maura. I couldn't help mentally chastising the ex-bridesmaid-with-the-broken-ankle for her rotten timing. Imagine not having the foresight to at least break your ankle several weeks in advance, so that the bride could arrange for a suitable substitute?

Although, of course, Maura was suitable. Way more than just 'suitable'. I didn't know the broken-ankle-girl, but I was confident that Maura was far better. Like a super-upgrade. Like an AK-47 compared to a 9mm. Like Windows 8 over MS DOS. Like… you get my point, yeah?

I expertly manoeuvred around the throngs of Rizzolis who had gathered at Frankie's house, and made my way to her room, pulling Maura behind me lest she get sidetracked and start chatting with some obnoxious member of the family. I knocked at Frankie's door, noted that her "Come in" was several times higher in pitch than usual, and ushered Maura into the room.

After hugging Frankie and going through the whole excited-congratulations bit, I pushed a smiling Maura forward and said with an exaggerated flourish "Behold your substitute bridesmaid!"

The beaming smile on Maura's face was wiped away when Frankie took one look at her and said emphatically, "Absolutely not!"