Author's Musings: Yes, I know, its been a minute since I've really posted anything, my apologies. But this idea came to me a few months ago, and I really want to do it right, so I've been taking a lot of time to edit and really flesh out a solid outline before posting anything. So, without further ado, chapter one:
(oh, and keep in mind, Rizzles is endgame for me, always)
Boston was cold that night . Boston was cold most nights, but when all you're wearing is hooker heels, a mini dress and a smile , Boston feels extra cold.
Jane hated this part of the job. She knew that as a brand new detective in BPD's Vice unit she would have to go undercover, and she knew that as a woman she would most likely have to play a prostitute, but that didn't mean she had to like it.
Lighting a cigarette, she carefully made her way down the quiet street, coughing as acrid smoke filled her lungs. It was a terrible habit, but it kept her warm and helped her blend in with the other working girls . Feeling a twinge in her ankle as her heel caught on a crack in the sidewalk, Jane longed to be back in her blues and boots, protecting her city from the heated interior of a squad car. She was so focused on her walking and smoking and inwardly complaining, she almost didn't notice the familiar shadow of a patrol car come up behind her.
This was it. Her big break: if she arrested the hooker and got her to flip on her pimp or her dealer, or really anyone. Officer Katherine "Kate" Beckett was desperate for a break. Her sudden transfer to BPD from New York had put a slight delay in her plans, but if she wanted to properly work her mother's case, she needed to be a detective. No one was going to listen to a beat cop's conspiracy theories about her mother's cold case. A homicide detective, now that was different. A homicide detective had respect, clout, privileges that Kate didn't have as a uniform.
"Beckett? Kate? What the FUCK are you doing here?!" There was a vein pulsing in the woman's forehead, and Kate's eyes widened as she realized who she had just arrested. She spun the scantily-clad woman around to face her.
"Detective Rizzoli? Is that really you? Jesus Christ, I didn't recognize you, I'm so, so sorry!" she said, scrambling in her pockets for her keys as the older woman huffed, tossing her head back to move her hair out of her eyes.
"Yes, Officer Beckett, that's kind of the point of UC, isn't it?" Kate met the detective's defiant gaze, but found that even she was vulnerable to the famed Rizzoli Death Stare, and looked at her boots.
"Ah, fuck, I hope I didn't compromise your ID," she mumbled, keeping her head down as she walked around her, fumbling with the keys as she uncuffed the detective. The second she was free, Rizzoli whirled around to face the patrol officer, one hand pushing back her wild hair while the other went to the back pocket of her leather mini-skirt.
"Oh, no, it's cool. Just my first big undercover op as a detective, and I just got arrested by the newbie Yank transfer. It's all good," Rizzoli replied, her tone biting as she scrolled through the phone she had just retrieved from her pocket "Totally gonna look great on my file when homicide starts taking applications. Great, Beckett. Real great." The sarcasm dripped from her voice as she typed something on her phone, snapping it shut when she finished.
"Hey, not my fault you're so good at looking like a working girl, Rizzoli," Kate bit back.
The detective furrowed her brow at the other woman's remark, upper lip tugging into a snarl.
"Well, I don't know how you guys do it down in the Big Apple, but here in Boston, we leave arresting hookers to Vice, especially when we know there is a big UC op being run by them," she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she stepped closer to the other woman.
Kate balked at Jane's sudden intrusion into her personal space, but didn't back down to the detective.
"I don't need to take this from you Rizzoli, I got bigger things to deal with than your UC" she retorted, narrowing her eyes as she turned away from the scantily clad woman.
"Hey where do you think you're going Rookie?" Jane barked, grabbing Kate's arm before she got out of reach "I'm not done with you" she added, glaring as the officer wheeled around, eyes wild with barely-contained anger. The energy between the two women was palpable as they stared off, silently daring the other to take it further.
"You better watch your next move, Rizzoli. You don't know what I'm capable of," she said, not blinking as she stared at the other woman, craning her neck slightly to compensate for Jane's higher stature, due mostly to the knee-high, heeled, black leather boots she was sporting.
Jane quirked an eyebrow, amused at the height difference.
"Listen, short stuff, I'm not about to get in a catfight with you, especially dressed like this, so back down there, Kujo," she said, her initial anger turning into amused sarcasm, and as she saw the rookie officer begin to relax, she stepped back.
Kate sighed, taking off her police cap and rubbing her hand over her tied-back hair.
"C'mon, Rizzoli, my shift is over in half an hour. They just got Blue Moon on tap at the Robber. Everyone knows it's your favorite, let me buy you a drink or two," she offered, extending her hand.
Smirking fully, Jane took it, giving it a firm shake. "Can't go to the Robber, Beckett. UC remember?" she replied.
"Oh shit, right," the other woman replied, bringing her hand to her head, chagrined.
"It's all good. You know O'Reilly's on Fifth?" Jane asked.
"Uh, no?" Beckett replied. Pointing to herself, she added, "New Yorker, remember?" with a grin, pronouncing 'New Yorker' with a stronger than usual accent for emphasis.
Jane sauntered over to the officer, pulling a pen from her small purse she had slung across her body.
"Here's the address, see ya in an hour," she said, writing down the information on Kate's palm. "I need time to change," she added, waving back towards the officer as she walked away. Kate, in turn, widened her grin, yelling, "Why, you look fine to me, Rizzoli!" as she went back to her patrol car, suddenly thankful her partner had called in sick at the last minute, and she had been flying solo that evening.
Jane slammed down her shot glass, looking Kate in the eye as she grabbed the proffered lime wedge out of the other woman's hand. At the detective's sudden motion, the younger woman's gaze locked on to Jane's digits.
"I like your...h-hands, Jane. They're...great. Lemme look at 'em," she slurred slightly, a result from the last tequila shot, as she held out her own hands, palms facing up.
Jane eyed the offered anatomy, slowly placing her own hand in Kate's slightly smaller palms.
Grasping them tightly, but not to the point of discomfort, Kate examined them carefully, auburn hair falling in front of her face in gentle waves as she ran an index finger down Jane's left palm.
"You know," she said, eyes focused on the patterns of lines in front of her, "a person's hands say a lot about them." Her voice was teasing and playful, flirtatious even, as she continued to study.
"Oh yeah?" Jane responded, using her free hand to lift her beer to her lips, sighing as the hoppy brew washed away the lingering taste of lime and agave.
"Well what does mine say?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.
Kate lifted a finger, never lifting her gaze. "Your hands," she paused briefly, "they've done a lot of different work. Manual labor, typing, writing, sports, exercising...you certainly work your hands hard there, Detective," she said, brow furrowed as she turned them over. "But they also have been creative, haven't they? You have the hands of a pianist, Jane. A hardworking pianist, who probably needs to moisturize more, but a pianist, definitely. Fingers like these? It would be a waste if you weren't." She looked up as she finished her assessment, reading the darker brunette's face, gauging her reaction.
Jane was shocked. It had been so long since she had even thought about the piano, but Kate had been accurate in her drunken examination. The piano had been one of the very few things her mother and her had agreed on as a child, but after the divorce there had been no money for lessons, and the only opportunity Jane had to play was stolen moments at her Nonna's house. But those moments, sitting at the faded bench, fingers carefully placed on worn keys, her grandmother at her side giving her notes and encouragement, those were precious memories that she kept tightly locked away.
"Jane, Jane, Jane...I need...you to help me pee." Kate broke the detective out of her reverie as she wobbled by the table. She leaned close to Jane, her lips millimeters from her ear. "Will you hold my hand, please?" she whispered, giggling as she started towards to bathroom.
Jane paused for a moment, debating whether or not to go after Kate. Making up her mind, she rose slowly from her seat and swaggered into the bathroom. She stumbled once before gaining her balance, boots heavy on the wooden floor of the bar as she followed her companion, grasping her hand when she caught up.
She didn't know when Kate's lips connected with hers. She didn't know when her hands had slid up the back of the younger woman's shirt, or how she managed to press her against the heavy wood of the bathroom door but there were teeth nipping at soft lips and nails scratching at smooth skin and Jane was not about to complain any time soon.
Someone's pounding on the door startled them apart
"We..I should go, Kate. I'm sorry, it's just...I can't do this." Jane rushed out of the bathroom, tugging down her shirt as she slid past the irate barkeep.
Kate stood still, watching the detective's form as she left. Shaking her head to clear out the beer-and-Jane-induced haze, she ran after the taller woman, grabbing her arm as she followed her outside.
"Jane, what the hell?"
"I'm sorry Kate, it's not you...I just can't do this."
"Yeah, you said that already. What's wrong, Jane?" Kate's brow furrowed as she tried to read the older woman's face. The anguish was clear, and the pain, but under that was...guilt? Kate's face relaxed as it dawned on her. "There's someone else isn't there?"
The taller woman scoffed, shrugging her shoulders at what Kate was suggesting.
Kate smirked. "Does Ladykiller Rizzoli have a crush?"
"Oh fuck you, Beckett, it's not a crush! There's just this...woman...at work, and I've only seen her a few times, and I just...ah." Jane's hands wound in her dark hair, as if the tugging at her scalp would somehow alleviate the conflict broiling within her. "I just can't get her out of my mind, ok? And it's screwing up everything." Jane smoothed down her shirt as she paced in front of the bar. Kate stopped her with a gentle hand on her friend's arm, gesturing to the front door with her free hand.
"Hey, Rizzoli, its ok. Let's just go back inside, have another drink, and you can tell me all about her." she spoke softly, trying to calm her anxious colleague. Jane sighed, running her hands through her hair once more before clapping Kate on the shoulder.
"Sure thing, Beckett"
"There's not really much to say" Jane said, peeling the label off her fresh beer while her boots tapped a cadence on the hardwood floor. "She's the new M.E. at HQ, Dr. Isles, you met her?"
Kate shook her head "Nope. but the name sounds familiar" Jane shrugged, eyes returning to the brown bottle in front of her.
"Well, she's the new M.E., just finished her residency at Boston General, and she's just," Jane slapped her hands flat on the sticky surface of the bar, digging her short, chipped fingernails into the worn surface. " She's frustrating! Like, I totally get vibes from her, y'know?" Jane turned to her companion, eyebrows knitting together as she took a pull of her beer. Kate nodded, curls bouncing as she grinned at the normally-stoic detective's emotional display.
" But she doesn't respond to me. At all. Unless its work related" she finished her tirade, taking another drink from the amber bottle, thumbnails going back to worrying the label. Kate smirked,
"Not used to girls resisting the Rizzoli charm huh?" she asked, poking her in the shoulder. Jane slapped her hand away, grinning sheepishly.
"Hey, worked on you didn't it?" she retorted. They both chuckled and turned back to their drinks. Jane sighed as her bottle made a dull thunk at meeting with the bartop.
"It's not even that though. Rumor is she doesn't really socialize with people from the precinct. At least, not the living ones. Spends all her time down at the morgue, doesn't even come up to the cafe for fresh air" she said, twirling the bottle between her hands. "Crowe's already got a nickname for her" she continued, eyes narrowed, as if imagining the snarky detective's face on the torn label "The Queen of the Dead, he's calling her"
End note: I really want to know if there is any desire for more of this before I invest more time into it so PRETTY PLEASE tell me your thoughts?!