Jane Rizzoli was not happy.

That didn't mean Jane wasn't fulfilled. She had a job she loved, a caring family, and a beautiful girlfriend. Her friends always had her back, and the universe still rewarded her with beer and baseball. No, Jane was pleased with life. But she still, at this moment, was not happy. Vacations were supposed to be fun, not torture.

And right now she was on the way to some hoity-toity thingy she knew she was going to hate.

"Maybe we'll get to meet the Ice Queen herself," Jane mused while looking out the window of the rented limo.

"It's not very nice to make assumptions. Especially ones expedited by the media. You still get upset when people refer to me as the Queen of the Dead," her companion reasoned, reaching out to touch her knee.

The brunette turned to look into hazel eyes with an apologetic smile before asking, "How do you know her again?"

"Her and Mother both attended art school in France. They kept contact, and now the Isles Foundation works very closely with Runway to raise money for various charities," Maura explained excitedly while absentmindedly stroking her partner's leg, "I can't believe we're actually on the way to a ball."

"Me either. I used vacation days on this," the other remarked sarcastically.

"Behave, Jane. These functions are extremely difficult to get into. It's incredibly auspicious timing my mother and father needed a representative for the foundation while they were away in Venice. Runway is America's most trending fashion magazine, exhibiting a gross profit of nearly-"

"Alright, I get it, Heidi Klum. It's popular."

"It's so much more than that. The ingenuity of the couture and designs on Runway's pages are just so indescribably beautiful," the blonde marveled, much to the amusement of the woman beside her.

"It's just an advertisement for a bunch of clothes," came the response.

Maura fixed a glare to inform the detective the importance of fashion was not to be argued before sighing, "I'm just satisfied I managed to get you into an Armani suit." She reached out to straighten the navy jacket.

"And I'm just looking forward to getting some free champagne and satisfying you in the hotel room later," Jane husked with the suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

Her girlfriend leaned closer and muttered, "Maybe. If luck gets you."

"It's 'if you get lucky,'" the other smirked.

"You're not helping to increase your odds of coitus tonight."

"I'm in New York city, not going to the Yankee-Sox game, and going to some fashion thing because I love you," Jane said, moving close until her nose was brushing against the doctor's, "You owe me."

Maura rolled her eyes but still felt unable to resist a smile. So as not to ruin her makeup, she closed the remaining distance and kissed Jane as chastely as possible.

"I love you too."

It wasn't until the limo was parked directly outside the blinding chaos of flashing lights that Jane started asking herself if there was still a chance to escape. After all, she had been coerced that evening back home in Boston. This was unfair. How was she supposed to say no to a vacation in New York when asked after a night of sex with Maura Isles? It'll be a little dinner, she'd said. It'll be fun, she'd said. Right.

Her body froze at the massive amount of people holding cameras and fashionable elite swaying into the building.

"Woah."

"Wishing you had worn that dress I brought for you?" Maura questioned coyly next to her in the seat.

"No. Maybe. A little," the other sighed, turning away from the car window, " I wouldn't have had anywhere to put my gun." She wasn't going to leave her weapon when going out into a strange city even if it was for some fancy-pants party.

"Relax. You look sexy." Maura rubbed Jane's forearm, and the Italian smiled with the knowledge that she would have the sexiest woman on her arm tonight. Wasn't that really all that mattered?

The driver opened the door, and Jane put on her game face. After all, how hard could it be to resist rolling her eyes for an hour at some spoiled rich folks, drink a few flutes of bubbly, then roll on back to the hotel with the beautiful doctor?

You've got this, Rizzoli.

Ascending the stairs to the grand entrance would have been impossible without Maura's steady hand and charming smile to distract all those damn cameras. Jane noted the bodyguards standing by the entryway and instantly wished she could trade places. After talking to some of the folks at Maura's other upper-crust functions, Jane was already dreading what lay ahead. The hall was brightly decorated with colors of red, yellow, and blue that seemed destined to incite a headache. Swirling mass of bodies instantly made the detective queasy. People were wearing clothes she knew she would need to take out a loan to pay for.

"I just hope I don't have to cut a squirting fish like that one time," she mumbled, already picturing the embarrassing socializing and awkward dinner conversations that laid on the horizon. Where's that free booze when you need it?

"Of course not. The menu tonight will be a much lighter selection of hors d'oeuvres. Look," Maura nodded excitedly around the room, "the color scheme this evening reflects the primary colors. An excellent allusion to the arts programs and youth learning camps these charities are responsible for starting. I read about it on the website before we left Boston."

Jane just stared.

"Do you do that on purpose?"

"What?"

"Say something cute to distract me?"

Her response was the rolling of hazel eyes before the blonde strolled over to a waiter to claim some flutes. Jane couldn't help admiring the way the bold, blue fabric hugged all the curves she had memorized in the past year. She knew where all the freckles were, and, even though she had totally forgotten who the heck made the dress her girlfriend was wearing, she was damn sure it was going to end up on the floor tonight. Possibly folded. Maura got angry last time there were wrinkles.

The subject of her investigation returned with the champagne and a smile. Yet another reason to love Maura Isles. As Jane sipped at the newly acquired bounty, she heard a gasp beside her.

"There she is," Maura breathed.

Jane turned around and instantly saw a head of white hair turning to kiss someone on the cheek. She didn't see what all the fuss was about. Sure, she was pretty, but wasn't she supposed to be a total jerk?

"You going to go meet her?"

"I couldn't. She's just so…regal," Maura replied, almost gushing.

"She's just some rich lady that puts clothes in a magazine. You're good at all this schmoozing stuff. Go talk to her if you want to," said the other between gulps. This was one of those nights that getting buzzed as quickly as possible had its advantages.

"Jane, this isn't some member at the country club. Miranda Priestly is a visionary. A genius."

"You're the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. And the dumbest genius I know. You can do this." A tanned hand reached out to stroke a smooth arm.

Maura looked up into dark eyes before muttering innocently, "You'll come with me, right?"

Oh no, that's how this whole thing started.

"Sure. Right after I have about three more of these," Jane mumbled into her glass. She then made the fatal mistake of looking into at the same pouting face for which she had yet to discover a defense. Really?

"Fine, fine, let's get this over with," she finally said, extending her arm for Maura to grab, much to the other's glee.

They made sure to deposit their glasses with the nearest available waiter before weaving into the crowd. Either Maura looked unbelievably stunning (which she did), Jane appeared incredibly out of place (she most certainly was), or the fact the two women were together was generating a great deal of stares. The detective sighed but couldn't resist a smile when she looked over to her girlfriend, who was currently utilizing breathing techniques in a very obvious attempt not to hyperventilate. Her spare hand reassuringly patted the one wrapped around her bicep.

Spotting the devil, or whatever they called her, wasn't difficult considering the iconic hair. Jane still didn't get what the big deal was, and she seemed just as confused when she noticed the editor was the only person not abiding by the night's weird dress code of artsy colors like Maura had explained. Apparently the people throwing the party didn't have to stick with themes. Who did this woman think she was? This was shaping up to be a fun experience.

Meet Miranda, get happy Maura, have good night in hotel room. Meet Miranda, get happy Maura…

It took time like a complicated dance. Everyone orbited around the fashion guru waiting for a turn. Jane decided she didn't like this woman's chilling smile as they watched people bow and exalt before the queen. She just tried to distract Maura as best as she could before they were summoned.

Finally, as the duo approached, Jane noticed the odd way in which Miranda leaned towards a redhead behind her. She had spied the habit with the other guests as well; the thin woman waiting in her shadow quickly muttered something before the editor turned to face them in full. An assistant? Maybe she was telling her how much time she had left before it was time to leave. Jane felt her partner take a deep breath as they entered the circle of Hell.

"Hello, you probably don't know who I am but-"

"On the contrary, Maura. Your mother has been very forthcoming on what a wonderful woman you've become."

"It's an honor, Miranda," Maura gushed beside the detective, thrilled at either the prospect of Miranda knowing her name or the fact her mother had sung her praises. Or perhaps both.

Well, there was the first clue something was up. Constance wasn't exactly known to get the mother of the year award. Jane's eyes flickered to the short girl standing a fair distance away not to be included in the conversation. She had a small, smug smile.

Had she told Miranda who they were?

A gaze of icy blue turned towards the tall woman and quickly assessed the dark, navy suit she was wearing before meeting her gaze with a smile. Jane could tell the smirk was fake, almost wicked, and stood taller in attempt to answer some kind of challenge she sensed in that cold stare.

"And Ms. Rizzoli, I presume?" said Miranda with almost a purr.

"Pleasure," replied the other with a husky voice while extending her hand. The handshake was firm, and Jane's gut told her this was a woman of confidence and power. She was not to be messed with.

The woman in question again turned to the still smiling blonde. God bless Maura for her complete inability to sense when things got a little awkward. She was just so excited to be here, and that made Jane smile even slightly in the presence of Miranda. Not Ms. Priestly. Her girlfriend had reminded her several times that evening when they were getting ready.

"We were quite dissatisfied your parents would be unable to attend this evening." Really, lady? What is that? A royal 'we?'

"They were extremely disappointed as well," Maura responded politely, "I know their work with your magazine is by far one of their most personally treasured."

"And their investments are always appreciated here. I do hope you two enjoy your stay in the city." Jane had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. I'm sure you do.

"Oh, yes. Tomorrow we plan on visiting the Bodies Exhibition. It's fascinating how they use a process of acetone replacement and submersion in liquid silicone in a vacuum chamber in order to preserve the specimens," the blonde gushed excitedly.

Miranda's eyebrow slowly lifted in silent judgment, and Jane almost growled in anger. She even noticed the assistant behind her biting her cheek in an attempt not to laugh. Jane, not so subtly, draped her arm around Maura's waist and fixed her eyes fiercely onto the silently chuckling woman behind Miranda, who promptly noticed and pretended to look around the room seemingly unaware. Yeah, Maura got excited about some weird stuff, but no one was going to laugh at her girlfriend if Jane Rizzoli had anything to say about it.

"I believe my daughters attended last year for some academic venture. They proclaimed it to be an interesting experience," Miranda said smoothly, and Jane's eyes instantly returned to the speaker. What the hell? Was she being nice?

The same seemingly frigid eyes darted swiftly over where the detective's hand rested on a dress-clad hip before giving an almost unnoticeable nod. By the time the two women again locked eyes, Jane realized she felt as if she was in the presence of someone like Paddy Doyle. There was the need for caution, a sense of danger, and yet a demand for respect. They shared an understanding even if Jane wasn't completely sure what it was.

"That's wonderful. Most young girls don't find the study of anatomy to be intriguing, but the field could really use-"

"Maura, maybe we should give some other people the chance to meet the hostess," Jane interrupted with a small smile, knowing full well once Maura got on a roll, she didn't stop, "I'm sure we're holdin' up the line."

"Oh, yes, I'm so sorry. Again, it was so nice to meet you," the doctor said enthusiastically, trusting her partner with determining conversational norms.

Jane looked into the crowd, already calculating what route to take in order to escape from the dragon. Few people seemed to be entering the room from the general doorway considering the banquet was relatively in full swing. One gentleman was walking in through the entrance with a quickened pace. Probably running late.

"You as well. Do tell your parents of Runway's gratitude for their contributions."

Jane would have turned around to dish out her valiant attempt at bullshit if it wasn't for the way the man's hand was stuffed into his jacket. None of the other annoyingly proper, rich people walked that way.

"Ms. Rizzoli."

His shoulders brushed roughly against the crowd surrounding him, almost barreling towards them.

"Jane?"

Metallic silver flashed.

"Get down!"

A blurr, a smack, a bang. Screams. Jane didn't think about the fact she was laying on top of Miranda Priestly. She didn't do more than even glance at Maura to make sure she was okay. Instinct flared inside of her; the shooter turned on his heels, and she pushed off the floor.

It was one of those situations when her hand sought her gun without her brain ever remembering the command. People in tuxedos and gowns were sprawling on the floor in panic at the sound of the gunshot, giving the speeding pursuer a clean line of sight. The man tore towards the entrance with wild abandon, but Jane surged towards him, eyes blazing. Then she saw him raise his gun again the crowded room.

She took the shot.

The bullet embedded in his thigh and sent him careening to the hard floor of the grand hall.

When she reached him, he was moaning and writhing in pain. The gun lay a few feet away from he had most likely dropped it in the fall.

She aimed at the back of his head and said firmly, "You have the right to remain…" Not on duty Rizzoli.

"Don't move," she shouted instead. Out of the corner of her eye, she looked to the entrance where the bodyguards had once stood, only to find them missing.

"Where's security?" she called into the room. What kind of bodyguards left their post in the middle of an event? Keeping the barrel trained on the man before her, her eyes tried scanning the throngs of people.

She found them when two men approached her with their guns raised.

"Woah, Boston PD. Attempted shooting," Jane quickly summarized, lowering her own weapon against the man on the ground who's only movement was panted breaths.

"Is everyone okay? Who was the target?"

"Miranda Priestly," she replied and a weird buzz seemed to settle over the room that pricked at her neck. She turned around to met with the image of the woman she had pushed to the floor, hands on her hips, white hair slightly ruffled, and her facial expression nothing short of demonic. Her heels clicked towards the little ensemble in the center of the room. One of the men approached her.

"Are you alright-"

"Don't just stand there blubbering. Call the authorities," she drawled, gaze turning towards Jane, "that have actual jurisdiction here."


"I'm still rather surprised she invited us to visit her office tomorrow," Maura said, placing her purse on the table in the hotel room. Jane trudged in the door behind her, exhausted after the hours of questioning from the cops; now she knew what it was like to be on the other side. She plopped on the bed and rubber her face with her hands.

"I don't like it." Jane's gut usually told her when something was up, and it was none too happy with tonight's events and tomorrow's plans. Especially after talking to the police, it sounded like something wasn't adding up. Plus, Miranda hadn't exactly asked nicely; she almost commanded they come. I don't like one bit.

"She probably just wants to say thank you in her own little way for saving her. I know I'm thankful," Maura cooed climbing on the bed behind her lover and running her fingers over stiff shoulders. Her lips lightly pecked at an olive-skinned neck.

Jane sighed again, this time a little more contently. She turned her head and nuzzled against the woman resting behind her.

"Why do all the crazy people follow us?" she mumbled.

"The probability that shooter followed us from Boston is extremely low. I would also propose it's more or less our careers that force us to be more aware of increased atypical, malicious behaviors while not necessarily concluding an actual quantitative rise in the number of violent acts," the doctor rambled, "And I know you're thinking about doing your, follow-the-trail, gumshoe thing, but let the phenomenal NYPD do their job," she said with a pat to Jane's shoulder before leaving the bed and walking over to the door to the bathroom.

"Someone called in a tip there might be a crime occurring within the jurisdiction of the shower if you want to investigate that in approximately five minutes," Maura called over her shoulder with a purr before the door shut solidly behind her.

Jane smiled as she realized for the billionth time that night why she loved her girlfriend. Who else could distract the detective away from a stressful shooting?

She walked over to their luggage sitting in the corner of the room, and grabbed her personal duffle bag. Unzipping and shuffling through the side pockets, she finally grabbed hold of a velvet box. A small smile appeared on her face when she opened it.

Jane held up the ring, the diamond center gleaming even in the dim light of the hotel room. She had known months ago she was ready to spend the rest of her life with Maura Isles, but, for the same sake of some old notion of propriety, she had waited. And waited. Sure, coming New York for the ball hadn't been the most exciting thing Jane could think of to do with her vacation time, but it was still a vacation. They had planned on seeing the city for the next few days. She had made a reservation at a really fancy French restaurant she remembered Maura mentioning eons ago. It was going to be perfect.

But instead some psycho decided it would be fun to try and assassinate fashion royalty, and now they got to go have another enlightening conversation with the Ice Queen.

She returned it to the sheath of velvet and sighed. So much for a romantic getaway.


A/N: I'd just like to say thanks to streepytime on Tumblr for posting the idea of a Rizzles/Mirandy crossover. Please read and review and let me know if it's worth continuing. Thanks!