Illusionist

A/N: This is my fanfic so give it a chance guys. I'll try to update within 2 times a week. This is dated in the year 2000 and will progress to this present year of 2014. All thoughts, comments, criticisms are needed; I want to become better at writing, so don't hold anything back that's on your mind. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Rizzoli and Isles and all its characters belong to TNT and its original creator, Tess Gerritsen, developer, Janet Tamaro, and current producer, Jan Nash. All that transpire and will transpire in this story are of my creation.

"Love is the magician that pulls the man out of the hat."- Ben Hecht

Chapter 1

The streets of downtown Boston were busy with on-coming traffic, angry commuters, and police vehicles zooming past every street looking somebody to put behind bars. It's normal for 15 year old, Jane Rizzoli, as she walks along the sidewalk toward a nearby hole in the wall liquor store, Eastland Market. She was wearing a Green Day t-shirt from their latest album Warning, a dark pair of jeans ripped at the knees, black and white converse, and her favorite Red Sox hoodie. She didn't have much of a wardrobe due to how low the expenses were for her family at the time. Life wasn't easy for Jane, she grew up with an Italian, blue collared plumber for a father, and an over-night waitress for a mother. Jane always thought that her two younger brothers, Tommy and Frankie, we the lucky ones in the family. They didn't have the burden to help support the roof over their head, since their parents barely made enough for them to still have a home. Jane tried to get a job, but it would always back fire. Last time she had a job she was a bike messenger, she hadn't been working a week before her bike got stolen. It made her desperate for the extra cash, so what Jane did to support her family wasn't the best of choices to make.

Angela Rizzoli was in the kitchen making a pot of tea, when she heard a sudden knock on the door. As soon as she opened it, was greeted with a police officer gripping her daughter's sweater by the hood.

"What's the aning of this? Why are you holding my baby by the hood, she isn't violent! She's my little Janie for crying out loud. Sure she would get a little snippy now and then, but she wouldn't hurt a fly," she says two the officer in demanding tone.

"Really Ma, snippy?" Jane said, slightly embarrassed and annoyed for a moment. At this the officer finally spoke up, slicing the silence in half, "Mrs. Rizzoli, did you have any idea your daughter was committing theft?"

Angela's eyes grew wide at the statement, "NO! my Janie does not do such thing! Jane please explain to us what happened," she turns her attention toward her silent daughter.

"Well, I overheard you and pop arguing last night. You said that we needed some food to last until tomorrow, and that you and pop didn't have enough to feed us. So, I went to the grocery store and took some food from the shelves…," the room goes silent, but is interrupted with the sound of Jane's cracked voice, " I…I'm so so sorry Ma, I really am," Jane hung her head to the floor in shame.

As Angela sees this, she can't help but feel for her daughter. Knowing how much stress and worry, Frank Sr. and herself, put on Jane breaks her heart in half.

"Thank you officer, I can take it from here," sighs Angela as she and Jane walk toward the living room.

Here she is…again, but only at a different store. Having her brothers and herself not eat all day was killing her. She knew that the only way to put food on the table, was to attempted another snatch and grab.

'Come on, Rizzoli. You're doing this for Tommy and Frankie. They haven't eaten yet, so pick out something quick….,you can't keep letting them down,' Jane thinks to herself. As she walks down an isle full of canned foods, her eyes lock onto a can of ravioli. "perfect," she whispers.

She walks normally to the section where her acclaimed prize is, and as she's reaching for the can, she stops.

Angela and her daughter had been sitting on the couch, having a log conversation about their financed situation, and that stealing should never be a last resort.

"Jane, the only way you're ever going to get the greater things in life, is if you give to the world, not take from it," she said to Jane as she wraps a comforting arm around her.

Jane nods. "Promise, you'll never steal again?" her mother asked.

"Yeah, I promise." Said Jane, but as she did she used her left hand to wedge it between the arm of the couch and her thigh, she crossed her fingers.

Jane stops her movements toward the canned good, and took a few steps back, 'I couldn't do it again…not to Ma,' her inner thoughts say. She then makes a b-line toward the door and straight to the sidewalk.

'I need some time to think,' she thinks as she looks for a place to relax in peace. She spots a park just a few blocks down, not to busy not to dead for it to be a ghost town, 'seems decent.'

Suddenly Jane's thoughts are interrupted by a homeless man lying flat on his back with his right arm dangling of the edge of a bench. He looked warn down, dirt mixing in with his already dark skin, and from the looks of it there was something in his hand, he was clenching it tightly. As if it meant something to him, something he never wanted to let go.

Then, a clacking sound brought Jane out of her trance, she glanced at the now unclenched, then looked at floor and saw a pair of dog tags. She picked up the tags and on them it read 'Barold Frost'.

'Damn the mans a soldier. He shouldn't be living like this.' Jane thinks, she then pulls out three one dollar bills. 'He needs it more than I do.'

Jane then speaks up, "Sir… sir… are you awake."

Nothing.

She puts a hand on his shoulder and gives a gentle shake. "Excuse me si…" Jane stops mid-sentence, as the man grabs her by the throat. She looking for an sign of remorse in his eyes, but is only met with bright hazel eyes.

He then speaks, "You, you're the one I've been looking for…. Jane Rizzoli."