2. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun(eral)

"Mm… these sheets are really comfy. What did you say they were made of again? Angel wings and baby bottoms?"

Maura chuckled at Jane's silliness and turned onto her side to get a better view of the snoozing athlete. Propping her head up on her hand she answered, "No, Jane. Not only is there insufficient scientific evidence to prove that angels do in fact exist, unless you use the scientific "empirical" approach which depends on case studies as such to support the theory, I don't see how-"

It was the sound of snoring which gave Maura pause.

"Jane?"

It wouldn't have been the first time she had bored someone to sleep, unfortunately, but never had it happened so fast. To make absolutely certain, she observed Jane's facial movements for a little while longer. When nostrils flared and a slow dimpled smile involuntarily crept onto the other girl's face, Maura knew she had been duped.

"Jane!"

"Ow! What's with the abuse?" Jane protested when a swift smack in the arm jolted her from her mirth. She just couldn't help laughing though.

"That wasn't funny. I thought I'd bored you to sleep." Maura pouted.

"Of course not, I was just resting my eyes, for the better to hear you, my dear." Jane purred while propping her own head up to face Maura.

"Care to explain the fake snoring?"

With a quirk of a manicured eyebrow, hazel challenged deep brown.

"Uh… no, but please continue. I was actually listening, y'know?"

Maura let it slide, only because it felt nice to have Jane's undivided attention.

"Well, to answer your original question, these sheets are made of Pima cotton." She slid her unoccupied hand across the space between them over said sheets. "It bears some similarity to many forms of Egyptian cotton, but it's also considered to be one of the superior blends, and is extremely durable and absorbent."

Jane smirked at that and she pitched her voice down low for her next words.

"And why would sheets need to be… 'durable' and… 'absorbent', Ms. Isles?"

Observing the way Jane's eyes sparkled with some sort of hidden meaning, the young science enthusiast sensed a slight shift in the atmosphere. Deciding it was neither the time, nor place, to start anything, Maura opted for a safer territory of conversation.

"Well, for one, I would recommend it for people who go to bed without taking their shoes off," she said pointedly.

Jane laughed and retorted, "Oh, you'd just love that, wouldn't you? You and your foot fetish."

"You're incorrigible," laughed Maura, pushing Jane's shoulder while allowing her own body to flop back onto the pillows.

A beat or two later…

"Say, Maur? Who's that creepy old man watching us over there?"

Maura looked in the direction of Jane's curious gaze. She squinted.

"Evidenced by the words engraved on his name tag, I would say he's the Store Manager."

Unfazed, Jane continued in a nonchalant way, "Huh… I'm kinda dozing off here. Wanna get outta here?" She was getting bored more than anything.

"He just had a word with Security, so that would be wise to do at this point."

Jane leisurely lifted the bed covers off her legs. Maura was out of bed, hurriedly putting on her shoe when she heard the Store Manager's order.

"Get them!"

The girls sprinted out of the mattress shop and headed down the pavement, dodging innocent bystanders, while two guards huffed and puffed not far behind.

"Stop them!" they shouted after the fast female fugitives.

Luckily, no one cared to interfere in this entertaining foot-race. When Jane rounded a corner, she looked back to find Maura struggling to run with one shoe on and the other in her hand.

"Ditch the shoes and run, Maura!"

"Not my Prada's! I'd rather get caught!"

If she could have, the tough tomboy would have rolled her eyes, but instead she made another sharp turn and entered what looked to be a little flower shop, then grabbed Maura before she passed by it. They hid behind a few large bouquets and stood as still as mannequins. If those mannequins had just gotten back from a marathon, that is.

Watching with baited breath as the men following them abruptly stopped in front of the display window, the girls spied through an arrangement of yellow snapdragons.

One of the men bent over at his waist and put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. The teenage fugitives couldn't hear what they were discussing, but after a few moments of back-and-forth deliberation, both men shook their heads and headed back the way they came from.

Jane and Maura released a synchronized sigh of sweet relief.

"Phew, that was close."

"But Jane..."

"What's wrong?"

"My shoe got scuffed."

Even now that she actually could, Jane still didn't roll her eyes when she took in the full extent of Maura's distress over her ruined shoe. She looked at the shoe in Maura's hand. It probably cost more than her car, she mused.

"What 16-year old wears Prada anyway?" asked as she inspected the wounded footwear.

"As far as I know, there is no age restriction on taste, Jane. I appreciate the aesthetic quality and craftsmanship that went into making these shoes…" sniffle "And now they're ruined," she all but whined.

Then Maura's water broke. Figuratively. Jane panicked. Literally.

"Hey, whoa. Don't cry. I'm sure your shoes will be fine with a bit of, uh, craftsmanship."

"I can't control the connection between my amygdala and lachrymal gland." Maura pouted.

Before Jane could think of anything more to say to try and calm the upset girl down, they were greeted by a kind aged voice.

"Excuse me, dears. Is something the matter?" asked the old lady offering a tissue in the direction of the distressed damsel. She was a short, grey-haired black woman with spectacles right on the tip of her nose. She had a worried look in her tired eyes, and something about her made Jane think she was well-practiced at offering a sympathetic ear.

Jane answered for Maura.

"She'll be fine. She's just... going through... something."

Drawing her own conclusions from the scene in front of her, she offered a tissue, "Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss, sweetheart."

Maura looked up at the genuine concern. She accepted and dabbed the offered tissue under her eyes before delicately blowing her nose.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Call me Dorothy. Ma'am just makes me feel my age," she said with a smile.

Maura smiled back brightly. "My middle name is Dorothea, but you can call me Maura."

What a coincidence, thought Jane as she watched on in amusement as the two got to talking about their shared name and what it means, then about flowers and their meanings, then somewhere in the middle of it all, Jane realized while looking around that they weren't in an actual flower shop - but a funeral parlor.

"These flowers are beautiful, Dorothy," complimented the young fashionista.

"Why thank you, Maura-dear. Were you looking to purchase some?"

Jane's ears perked at that. How long would it take for Maura to get a clue?

"Oh, no. I- we, Jane and I, we were just passing through." Maura was a bad liar... but a master at working her way around the truth. Telling the sweet old woman that they came into her shop to get away from a pair of Security guards didn't seem like a very good idea.

"Oh. I just thought that because of... your loss, you may need some assistance."

Maura looked confused.

"No, that won't be necessary. I have plenty of shoes." Maura assured her.

Now Ms. Dorothy looked confused.

"Shoes? Pardon me but what does that have to do with-"

Jane decided it was high time she butted into the conversation, so she did.

"What Maura means is that, uhm, she lost her... goldfish, Prada, and we already flushed him so flowers won't be needed. But thanks." then she whispered into Maura's ear, hoping Dorothy had stereotypically bad hearing. "We're in a funeral parlor. She thinks someone died, so play along."

Light bulb.

"Oh, goodness me. I just thought that, from how upset you looked... I'm sure Prada is at peace wherever... sh-he... is..."

"I- you're very kind, thank you." replied the grieving girl, finally catching on.

"Just doing my job, dear."

"Better you than me, Dorothy. I was never good with... living people."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes. I just can never seem to conform to the normal standard of socially accepted etiquette outside of my own upbringing… Which is why I'd like to be a medical examiner."

"A- oh."

"The dead are much easier to decipher. And they don't judge nor lie."

There was a long moment of silence in the room.

Clearing her throat, the senior citizen declared, "Alright, well, I should get back to work. Nice meeting you both," backing away towards the far counter.

Jane sensed that old Dorothy may have been a little weirded out by Maura's declaration, but she was still nice about it. She took the smaller girl's hand and led her out of the shop.

"That's... really cool y'know. Not many people have the guts to deal with guts. I wanna be a detective. Homicide."

"Really?" Maura imagined Jane with a gun and badge and, although she had a rebellious streak as evidenced by their earlier rendezvous, it made perfect sense to her.

"Yeah." Jane nodded, a little shy having never divulged her dream to anyone before Maura. "Maybe we'll work together some day. You'll 'speak' for the dead, and I'll, catch the perps who killed 'em."

"Speak for the dead. That's exactly what I want to do, and I'm sure we'd make a formidable team… Detective Rizzoli." she winked.

"Yeah, Dr. Isles. And maybe you can, uh, examine my body some time?" Jane didn't care anymore how cheesy she sounded as they headed towards her car.

Maura looked appalled and confused.

"Jane, you would have to be legally dead for me to do that."

Of course, trust Maura Isles to be so literal. Jane rolled her eyes with a groan.

"Did I miss something?" Maura asked, already knowing she had.

"Y'know, you're the dumbest genius I know," came the deadpan response.

"I'm the only genius you know."

"That, is not the point."

"What is your point then?"

"My point is that I just called you dumb. React." Jane unlocked her car door and they got in.

Maura laughed out loud at her... friend?'s childish behavior.

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to take you seriously?"

Mischievous deep brown whipped around to lock with playful hazel eyes. Jane leaned into the other girl and kissed her softly.

Maura kissed her back feverishly, with tongue and everything. When they pulled apart, their lungs sucked air in greedily.

"Is that reaction enough for you?"

Jane smiled then started the car.

"Not bad, but our date's only just started."

"You mean there's more after being head-hunted then conning an old lady?"

"Oh yeah. Buckle up, Dorothy. We're off to see the wizard."

"Don't make fun of me."

Jane laughed as they drove off into the sunset... well, the name of the road was Sunset anyway. You know what I mean.

A/N: Plot? What plot? Thanks for reading. Review if you like.