Safety and Home
She says I smell like safety and home.
Author Notes: This story popped into my head while I was walking home from getting dinner and listening to the song. Honestly, most story ideas have been born this way – both fanfic and one I plan on turning into a book (hopefully!) If you ever see a 5'1" dark-haired female with her backpack on, headphones (not earbuds, hate those) on, and wearing pink sunglasses, chances are it's me and I'm living inside my head, creating my next story. Don't bother me. Anyways…. Disclaimer: I own nothing here.
Safety
From a very early age, Maura Isles liked to learn. Whether she was in her nice clothes or her play clothes, she'd go outside and study the plants, the trees, the blades of grass, the dirt, the bugs. She asked questions about the origin of household objects, nature, human beings.
Her parents and nannies got her science books of all kinds. Once she learned how to read, she devoured books daily. They got her science kits and microscopes and telescopes that got bigger and more expensive the older she got.
She loved learning everything. Academically, she could run circles around her classmates. She, her nannies and her parents were always happy when she got high marks and straight A's.
The drawback of this was that being that smart made her other classmates not like her. She always knew the answer to every question posed by a teacher and both girls and boys mocked her for it. They called her a nerd, a geek, a Miss Know-It-All, Maura the Bora – they meant "boring" or "bore" but it didn't rhyme with her name.
When she tried talking to them, they sometimes told her to eat dirt. Once she started explaining the various nutrients found in it, they often pushed her. And she would cry and go to the nurse's office all the while being taunted with the name "cry baby." She had learned, early on, that it was better to not talk at all. Sometimes, out of fear, she would not answer teachers' questions because she didn't want kids to make fun of her.
At one point, one of her teacher's told her that despite what the other kids said, she shouldn't have to hide how smart she was. While she still didn't like being bullied, she decided to just suffer through it.
It was one of the reasons she had decided that boarding school was a better option for her. Maybe there were kids like her there.
She was wrong. During her first couple years, the kids were roughly the same as the kids in her prep school. Only this time, Maura learned to play down her intelligence. She allowed it to come through in her schoolwork, but she would only sporadically participate and answer questions.
By the time she was thirteen, the girls just started to ignore her and formed cliques and talked about boys. The only time they conversed with her was to get help on an assignment. She knew they were using her for her intelligence, so she tricked herself into thinking she was their tutor.
Teenage girls were the worst, though. Far worse than the little boys and girls from her prep school days. They would befriend her and have her hang out with them and then tell her they did it out of pity. Or they would say that if she wanted to hang out with them, she needed to do stuff for them. It was peer pressure and she knew it. But, she just wanted to have someone to talk to.
Eventually, they got bored with her and ignored her again. Some would do what the prep school kids did – pushing her around, mocking her, knocking her stuff out of her arms or off a desk.
She would just end up hiding in her room (her roommate was always out somewhere else) and keeping to herself. She learned to ignore the taunts in the corridors or the classrooms and tried to find private spaces – even off campus – to study.
The last couple years at boarding school were easier. There were some kids that were nice to her. They were all reaching that age where childish teasing was forgotten and they had relationships and university applications and job opportunities and fulfilling family expectations. Only a select number of them still bothered her.
Once at BCU, her roommates and fellow students did randomly mock her odd way of speaking, or got annoyed by her talking like an encyclopedia… but for the most part, they left her alone and focused on their own studies.
Med school was easy for her. She kept to herself, focused on her course work. Every other student was nerdy, just like her, and they were all vying for internships and the best teaching hospitals. Some students tried to psyche her out, make her doubt her own work, but she stayed focused and didn't let it get to her. A childhood of that behavior and somewhere along the way she had developed a hard shell; a slight immunity to the rudeness.
Being an intern nearly cracked that shell when she realized she would have to interact with her patients. Her attendings wanted facts and cared little else. Medical and scientific knowledge was where she excelled and was most comfortable. Trying to talk to patients and be personal with them, in order for them to trust her to do her job, was where she kept finding herself failing. The patients got annoyed, her attendings got annoyed and told her to be more personal, act more human.
It hurt her. A lot. She was human. She was a human being just like everyone else. She had tried being personal and it got her nowhere. People took advantage of it; of her trust.
Maura just adapted the best she could and waited until she was off before hiding herself away in her tiny apartment, all alone where no one could bother her or tease her. It was a defense mechanism she had developed long ago and for the first time in her life, she had her all alone space. No nannies, no roommates, no one but her and new little baby tortoise – a creature she had found in a pet store while searching for something that had to do with a patient's condition (don't ask).
During her time in med school, Maura found the one place where neither doctors nor patients got annoyed with her or mocked her. The one guy that was in charge of the department mostly kept quiet and to himself anyway. It was the one department most of the students disliked and complained about when it was their turn in rotation. The morgue. The "patients" were dead. And, as previously stated, the attending kept to himself.
For many years after that, not many people bothered her anymore. She adapted with new people and kept the geek-talk to a minimum. And, unless absolutely necessary, she avoided most social situations. Her next assignment – one she jumped at the chance to get – put her smack dab back in the social world. She was to be the assistant to the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. The office was located in a police precinct. When she met her boss and the lab techs, she found they were much like her and she started to feel comfortable. Unfortunately, the cops who worked upstairs did not enjoy speaking or socializing with them. They respected them to get answers to how someone was killed, but any talk outside of a case was frowned upon. Not prohibited, per se; it just didn't happen.
What started to bother Maura most were certain male cops who reminded her of the boys from school. They liked that she was pretty. They talked to her when they needed information about a case. But, when they tried to flirt with her and said something that reminded Maura of something scientific, she started to speak and they either walked away, mocked her, or told her to stop talking.
A couple of them reminded her of the frat boys of her college days. Most comments were derogatory toward her being a pretty female and she'd be better with her mouth shut or if she was going to open it, it was only to fill it with… Maura often shuddered thinking about it and learned to avoid those cops at all cost.
A few female cops talked to her during cases – even bringing up something that wasn't associated with a case. Mostly makeup, clothes, or tips on what the perfect gift was for some loved one. But, mostly they only talked amongst themselves and left her alone.
Then, Jane Rizzoli came into her life. Jane was the kind of person who would've bullied Maura or picked on her or mocked her and, if they didn't work together on occasion, they probably would've never been friends. The woman who came from a wealthy family, who wore designer, walked around in high heels, drank the most expensive and selective wine, ate organic and dined at the most exclusive restaurants, and spoke in Science being friends with the blue collar Italian who hated shopping, bought less expensive clothes sporadically, loved sports and had no problem tackling even a larger man to the ground, and preferred a burger and beer to anything healthy.
But, something drew them together. They socialized – not constantly – but Maura found Jane lingering in the morgue or around the lab sometimes and she would strike up a random conversation. Yes, at first, Jane got weird when Maura talked science but she would ask what those words meant. The more they got to know each other, the more social and friendly they became. Jane often teased Maura over her "googlemouth" but, unlike those in her past, it wasn't being used as an insult. When Jane was working a case and wanted answers, Maura – now Chief Medical Examiner – and her scientific words slowed her down, but Maura caught on. Jane was intelligent and could remember stuff, but Maura learned that when it came to a case, she had to speak in words that Jane and her fellow detectives would understand.
Maura noticed something else about Jane as their friendship progressed. Male cops and the random perp made comments about Jane being a lady cop, being a tomboy, calling into question her sexuality. Jane seemed to shrug it off and tell them off, acting like it was no big deal… though, Maura believed that those comments did affect her inside. But, when those cops who made derogatory comments about Maura came around, they saw Jane and acted polite around Maura. Or, if they did dare to say something, Jane got in their faces. They either backed off or called Jane a dyke bitch and calling Maura her girlfriend before they headed off.
Jane would seethe a little bit at the comments but turned back to Maura, looking concerned and making sure she was all right. Maura found that she liked that she had someone defending her like that. She imagined that if they had been friends when they were little, Jane would've been the one to take down those kids who had bullied Maura.
This protective behavior continued every time they were faced with danger. Even during the Jane's final battle with her ultimate nemesis – Charles Hoyt. They were being held in the prison infirmary and the guard was restraining Jane while Hoyt came to Maura and tased her before taking a scalpel – his favorite weapon of choice – to her neck. Jane, restrained and deadly scared of Hoyt, managed to break away from the guard and got Hoyt off of Maura and ended his life.
Maura knew, in that moment, that if ever they were faced with something, Jane would probably look past her own peril and stand in between Maura and whatever danger tried to befall them.
It wasn't like she was weak and needed protection, and she could certainly defend herself. But, it was Jane's instinct to protect people, especially her loved ones. And it made Maura feel safe.
That's what she thought of whenever she was scared or a nightmare happened or there was danger on the horizon. Jane Rizzoli was her safe place. Her safety. No matter what it was, Jane would protect her and make sure she was safe and happy.
Home
She had spent the majority of her childhood lonely. The only people attending to her on a daily basis were her nannies. At least until she enrolled in boarding school. The younger ones did have counselors or caretakers. Her parents did love her and gave her everything she would ever need or desire. But, she was still lonely. She kept to herself, which made those in charge of her well-being assume that she was fine on her own.
Her parents were away a lot working and switched residences often during the years before boarding school, and continued to do so afterward… which meant holidays at different homes almost every year.
If you'd asked Maura Isles what "home" was during her adolescence, she wouldn't be able to tell you. Because, all of those homes, vacation homes, beach houses, cottages, and even school weren't "home" to her. Ever. They were just temporary places to live before moving onto the next place.
The same applied for her dorm at BCU, as well as the off-campus apartment she stayed in. Even when she lived with Garrett Fairfield during their engagement, his place wasn't home.
Nothing ever did. Not even her current residence after she moved back to Boston and became the assistant to the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth. She decorated the place, made it her own and set up a special room just for her African spurred tortoise, Bass. It still felt temporary.
And then Jane Rizzoli came into her life, like a gust of wind, disturbing – in a good way – everything in Maura's world. And she brought the whole Rizzoli family with her.
Loud, abrasive, kind of obnoxious, always present. The Rizzolis were everything she and her family weren't. It conflicted with the world she had known. The quiet she had grown accustomed to early on her life.
Once Jane's mother moved into the guest house, they were even more present. Family dinners, incidents, drama, etc. managed to occur in the main house. Maura's residence was now the Rizzoli family home, whether she wanted it to be or not. More times than she could count, Jane often apologized after something occurred within the house. And, like clockwork, Maura excused it as no big deal.
She couldn't quite pinpoint when it happened, but she knew for a fact that not long after Angela Rizzoli moved in, that's when Maura had finally found "home." It wasn't the place itself, with all its homey touches and Bass. It was the variety of Italian foods in the pantry, cupboards and refrigerator; it was the box of Jane's instant coffee hidden in a cabinet; it was Jane's favorite beer continuously stocked in her fridge; it was the DVD/Blu-ray collection, the entertainment system, all the sports channels cable provided; it was the random odd – even by her standards – knickknacks around the house, the pictures of everyone together. It was standing in the kitchen with Angela making a meal while Jane sat on the sofa yelling at a sports program on TV; it was sitting around the expensive dinner table with its expensive centerpieces and the high-priced dinnerware clanging together while Maura, the Rizzolis, and their friends had dinner on various nights. It was the place everyone gathered. It was permanence. It wasn't temporary. It was home.
The unstoppable force of nature known as Jane Clementine Rizzoli came into her life of lonely emptiness and made and filled it with love and happiness and home.