A/N: I seem to be shelling out these chapters pretty quick, so here you go. :) I just posted chapter one last night, so make sure to read that if you didn't catch it for whatever reason and you feel interested in this story. I have ten chapters outlined, so this should not be longer than that unless I feel absolutely compelled to write an epilogue. Also, like I said in the summary, Maura will be with an original character for a bit (see chapter one's author's note for details). If that's not your thing, no judgment here, but you probably don't want to continue. Rizzles is most certainly endgame, but there will be a journey before that happens. Happy reading, and let me know what you think!


"Maura, you came."

The Medical Examiner surveyed not only the stocky young man who said her name, but the room he seemed to own. The light within proved worse than the light in the hall. Here, in this space that reminded her of the offices of her old professors at BCU, only three lamps, one in the corner by a window, one on an endtable between two armchairs against the far wall, and one on the oak desk the man had emerged from behind. The spartan floor sported only one maroon rug under the large piece of furniture in the center of the the room. She glanced to the one window that she had noticed earlier, with its blinds drawn all the way shut. There was no way of knowing if she could escape through it – was it bolted? Welded shut? Affixed with bars on the outside? This place vaguely reminded her of a prison, so it would not surprise her. No, it seemed that her escape from the room would have to rely completely on her intelligence and the temperament of the man who stood before her.

She thought he had fair hair and blue eyes and that he could not have been any older than she, but she could not tell, since not even the light of the moon was let in. He wiped his bearish hands on the front of his khakis before holding one out to her, and she took it lightly, shaking no more than no less than was necessary. He smiled, to one side and close-mouthed, at her decorum, the first darkness she had seen from him yet. Until that second, he had appeared harmless: a little drab, a little, well, normal, uninspiring, but nice, and polite enough. The way the curl of his lips brought shadows to the blue in his irises caused a shiver to run down into her gut - fleeting, but still present as he put on his mask of affability again. She thought that he might pass for a customer service agent or manager at any of the run-of-the-mill chain stores in Boston. It made her see Jane's point about criminals: some people have hunches about them, but most people pass them on the street everyday, never knowing any better about their identity or their danger.

You knew the type of people you would see here, Maura, you knew that there was risk involved in coming. "You're Daniel, I presume? When I heard that my father specifically requested that I be here, I was also told that you would be my liason," she spoke with gravitas, trying to impose a bit of control over a situation that was so obviously out of hers for the moment. He let her have it. His nod felt deferential to her.

"Yes, that's me. Daniel Roark. Please, sit, and we'll get started," he motioned to one of the two seats in front of his desk. She obliged. The chairs must have been at least twenty years old, and the wear on the cushion below her said that many people had sat there before. She surmised that most of them were not law enforcement, or employees of the state. But, then again, there she was. One never knew.

It was then that she noticed the body in the chair next to hers for the first time. The body that was very much alive, and very much not Irish. As she trailed up from the men's Prada cap toes up to tailored Versace evening wear, she could have sworn she saw Jane. At least, she thought she saw Jane's lower half: long, defined legs cross at the knee, long, olive fingers laced over the kneecaps. She had barely raised her eyes to the broad shoulders cased in black wool when she heard her name.

"Maura? This is Minerva Portinari. She, uh, has business in the North End. Paddy also requested that she be here. I hope that isn't a problem," said Daniel. He gestured to Minerva from across the desk, but Maura could not be bothered to toss a glance his way. Her eyes were far too wrapped up in the eyes across from her.

Infinitely more dark than Daniel's.

Maura heard her lungs ballooning as every vessel and capillary dilated. Why was she on such high alert? Minerva's long face, punctuated by the perfect bow of her lips and only half a shade darker than Jane's, met her own without reserve. Maura could not fathom, how someone could look you full on and still emit such an aura – an aura of drowning you and pulling you up at the same time.

"Maura... Maura Doyle, is it?" She spoke. Her voice sucked away the tension in the pathologist's back. Her voice, with a hint of an East Coast accent, crept out from behind her teeth and Maura suddenly knew where all the milky darkness in the room had come from. Had there been ten lamps here, it would have made no difference. Minerva Portinari provided shadows with just the timbre of her vocal cords. She and Daniel must have had quite the lengthy conversation before Maura walked in, judging from the dimness of their surroundings.

"No, Maura Isles, actually. I was adopted," she replied finally. She studied Minerva's visage again for a few seconds, resigned to the fact that she couldn't look elsewhere. Framed by shoulder length, thick, straight brown hair that was highlighted with what seemed to be chestnut, the other woman's face called for the utmost attention. Maura noted the ghost of a smile. "but I think you knew that." She chanced some bravado. If she were sitting in this room, then there was no way she could be so clueless to Maura's existence.

Minerva chuckled and readjusted her hands so that they brushed off the front of her black coat. "He said you were smart," she winked and Maura caught a whimper between her teeth before it could escape. "Well, you want to get this over with, Daniel? As you can see, I have an event to attend," gesturing to the suit she wore, the woman nodded to the only man in the room in encouragement.

"Of course. Well, Maura, as you know, your father is in prison. Because of some key testimony, he will be executed soon if he does not win his appeal. But, like any other business, even if the CEO is absent, the company has to accept its losses and move on to someone else. Rest assured, Paddy is well aware of the process and orchestrating the best he can from the inside. But, he requested that you be filled in-"

"Hold on a moment, Daniel. I don't mean to interrupt you, but what it sounds like you're insinuating is that I somehow will be involved in this replacement process," when the Irishman rubbed a hand through his hair and nodded, she continued. "My father said that there were some things for me to sort out in terms of his last will and testament, not that I would be participating in anything of that nature," Maura held up her hands, seeking to wash them of anything major before she encountered it.

Before Daniel could retort, however, Minerva spoke. "Maura. There is no need to worry yourself over who is taking over for your father. Daniel and I will take care of that. But, can I ask you something?" she unfolded her legs, turned toward the medical examiner in her chair, and then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her thighs.

"You may," Maura all but whispered in affirmation. She fiddled with the pendant around her neck, and swallowed. She noted the familiar tingle in her body, the tingle that usually told her that she wanted Jane near. But she also realized that part of her wanted Jane as far as possible when she was looking into Minerva's gaze.

"Why are you here, if you want no part of your father's business?" she asked. Fair point, Maura reasoned, but it still slithered down her gullet like a bitter pill. Could she even answer?

"Because I want my name removed from any parts of his dealings once and for all. If there's anything left that would be tied to me, I came here to find out, and deal with it accordingly," she attempted, at least.

"That's fair," seemingly satisfied, Minerva turned back to Daniel with a smirk. He only nodded to both women before continuing.

"I hate to break it to you Maura, but if that is your intention, we have a lot of work to do tonight," He shrugged as he spoke to her, and she silently appreciated the apology in his tone.

"If I may be so rude to ask, Daniel, if that is indeed the case, why is Minerva here?" Maura inquired. She did not want Minerva to leave, god no, she wanted her to stay as long as possible so that she could study her more, but she suddenly felt a burning need to know. To know more about any potential connection she had to her. Some deep recess of her brain hoped fervently that Minerva was not related to her. Why it did so, she was yet unsure.

"That's not rude, that's a good question," once again, Minerva answered in Daniel's stead. Maura wondered who called this meeting and who exactly was in charge. "Paddy has called on me to take over. He wants me to take his place."

Maura choked and coughed on her own saliva.

Questions blared on the front of her skull. Who is this woman? Since when CAN a woman take over a crime family? Since when could an Italian head up the Irish Mob in Boston, of all places? Was she the only thing standing between Minerva and this new power? Suddenly any part of her that did not want Jane here withered. She needed her protector, her knight, to keep her safe.

"It's true. As of right now, you two, in this room together right now, are the most powerful figures in Boston crime," Daniel handed Dr. Isles a cold bottle of water and Minerva patted her back in concern.