Part 10 – "Four Tops"
The next day, Jane is sitting in Dr. Cohen's office. Much to her chagrin, these IA counseling sessions continue to drag on and on and on. Rizzoli is perched uncomfortably on a circa 1970's vinyl chair. With her arms folded and leg bouncing, she is having a stare off with the doctor. She does not win.
"Is there anything else you would like to discuss?"
"I'd like to discuss when I'm getting my Glock and shield back."
"We haven't finished our time together yet."
"Are we ever?"
"That's up to you, Jane."
"Actually, it's Detective Rizzoli… but I can't do much detective work if you won't sign off on my case."
"I'm not signing off because we still have work to do."
"And I have real work to do – you know, solving murders, not psychoanalyzing my childhood."
"We haven't talked about your family at length, although it's fairly obvious how important they are to you considering what you did to save your brother."
"I would have done the same for anyone."
"Would you?"
"Of course."
Dr. Cohen skims her notes through owl-like glasses and scribbles something down.
"You do have a history of taking risks."
"Yeah, it's called being a cop."
"Some would say you went well above the required course of action."
"Please tell me what the required course of action is when headquarters is under siege from dirty 5-0 with automatic weapons."
The counselor senses an escalation but continues to jot down her notes. Jane rubs her nose and hisses.
"Did I miss that page in the handbook, Dr. C?"
The doctor parries as Jane attempts another verbal stab accompanied by theatrical gestures.
"Ooh, and were there pop-up pictures with the scratch n' sniff scent of blood?"
"Your sarcasm is an attempt to deflect from the core issue."
"Deflect, really?"
"Yes."
"JESUS CHRIST, LADY, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?"
Dr. Cohen responds with silent observation. Jane reigns in her temper and tries to find a way out.
"Since you're Jewish, I figured you wouldn't mind if I took my Lord's name in vain."
Without missing a beat, Dr. Cohen taps her pen on the desk and responds.
"Jesus was a Jew."
"OH, GREAT… it's bad enough my girlfriend is an atheist, now I have to play religious volleyball with another doctor."
Dr. Cohen raises an eyebrow.
"Girlfriend?"
Rizzoli looks away in disgust because she was just stripped naked and caught in her own steel bear trap.
"She… is a friend… who happens to be a girl."
"Um-hmm."
The doctor writes furiously in her notes.
"Don't 'um-hmm' that and please don't write that down, it has no relevance to whether or not I can work my frigging cases!"
"I assume we're talking about Dr. Isles."
"And why do we assume that?"
"Well, considering she's the only one I constantly see you with here…"
"We're doing our jobs."
"And at the Boston Pops, and Chez Henri, and the marathon, and…"
"You've made your point."
"And… she is the one who saved your life."
There is a long moment of silence as Jane's eyes drop to the floor. The doctor flips through her notepad.
"During our time together, you have only mentioned one other woman – your mother."
"Heh, how I could I not mention Ma?"
"Actually, you've brought up Maura's name more times than Angela's."
"I didn't know you were keeping count."
"Do you have any other female friends?"
"I… I do."
Jane quickly scrolls through her mental Facebook.
"I have more than four."
"Remember, you cannot count Maura or your mother."
"Four tops."
"Please tell me about them."
"There's, um, the lady at the dry cleaners who always gives me a break on my pantsuits, uh, Kelly in clerical who leaves homemade candy on my desk, Sister Agnes, and, almost forgot my cousin Marie."
"And how often do you have social interactions with them?"
Jane is growing even more annoyed.
"Why is that important?"
"I'm just curious."
"I see the dry cleaning lady twice a month, Candy Kelly a couple times a week, Sister Agnes when I take Ma to bingo, and cousin Marie every other Easter…"
"Those aren't meaningful interactions, are they? – you have a much deeper bond with Dr. Isles."
"Look, I don't have the time or the patience for a lot of girly-girl chitchat and most of the friends I had in high school are married and on their third kid, I have nothing in common with them anymore."
"But you do have things in common with Dr. Isles."
The detective lunges out of her seat and leans over Dr. Cohen's desk.
"WOULD YOU STOP ALREADY WITH THE MAURA QUESTIONS?"
"Why are you angry, Jane?"
"I'M ANGRY BECAUSE OF THESE BULLSHIT MEETINGS, THEY'RE A COMPLETE WASTE OF MY TIME – I'M ANGRY BECAUSE YOU WON'T LET ME DO MY GOD DAMN JOB AND I'M REALLY ANGRY BECAUSE MAURA ISN'T HERE…
Jane slams her open hand down on the desk and retreats to a corner. She runs her other hand through her thick, raven hair and sighs. Dr. Cohen quietly looks on.
"I have another appointment in a few minutes, Detective Rizzoli, I will see you here tomorrow at our scheduled time – good day."
Jane grabs her coat and huffs. She points her finger at the IA counselor.
"You want to do something to help, go shrink Bobby Marino's head – he's the cop-killing son of a bitch and I'm the hero cop… I'm the good cop here!"
Jane bounds out of the room and slams the door behind her. She nearly runs over Frost in the hall.
"Easy there, partner, we're on the same team… in more ways than one."
"I can't believe that… that WITCH spelled with a capital C is standing between me and my work."
"She's good, isn't she?"
"Too damn good for her own good."
"You keep fighting this and it will only take longer… and judging by that look of wanting to tear off someone's face on your face, I'm guessing she just added another week of sessions to your calendar."
"Faaantastic!"
"You need to learn how to nod your head and smile, just like this, nod your head and smile, like a dance move."
The detective demonstrates for his partner.
"You're way too cool for me, Barry."
"I'm beyond cool, Jane…
He waggles all of his fingers and whistles like a winter wind.
"I'm Frost!"
Jane finally breaks out a smile and the dimples.
"Did you learn that in drama club?"
"I learned a lot there."
"I bet you did."
"Korsak has a meeting with the chief and then we're heading out – meet up with us tomorrow at the Robber, buy us a round or two, and we'll let some case details slip."
"Can't you gimme a little hint?"
"The latest victim was definitely not the target, she was an accidental hit – we believe the intended was the DJ and he is currently out of the country on tour."
"As soon as he gets back, we need to be on him 24/7."
"Agreed – we'll go through it more tomorrow."
"Sounds like a date, partner, see you there."
"Only if you order the chicken soup!"
Jane heads out and is reflective on the drive back to her apartment. It's cold and overcast, autumn is definitely in the air – 'school weather.' Rizzoli decides to pick up her things from her folks' house later. Right now, she wants to be somewhere quiet and safe after her mental sparring match with Dr. Cohen.
The weirdness of being alone back in her own place after all of the disruption over the last few weeks is unnerving. Nothing has changed except for more dust. The dog is with her parents because the neighbor kids and her father love to play with it.
But her place, even with the game on, is all too still.
As she sits on the couch, beerless, Jane grimaces at the water bottle in her hand and contemplates calling Maura. She then mulls over Dr. Cohen's question about female friends and her lack thereof. Another thought hit her square in the jaw: what if she had died that day by her own hand?
Shivers run up her spine and down to her still-recovering gut. All of her arm hairs prickle simultaneously. Her split-second reaction may have saved Frankie but it nearly killed her and all but destroyed Maura.
Maura. The woman who admitted to being in love with her, the woman who was her best friend – her only true friend – the woman who had at last become her lover merely eleven days before the shooting.
What if Detective 'Hero Cop' Rizzoli had died because the brilliant Dr. Isles couldn't save her in time? She might as well have placed the barrel of her gun in Maura's mouth and pulled the trigger.
"Oh, God… no wonder you're on the other side of the country – how in the hell are you not on the other side of the world?"
Jane gulps down her water and resolves to give Maura some space by not calling her.
For now.
On the other side of the country, Dr. Isles basks in the west coast weather and is wondering why Jane hasn't called or texted yet. She is seated in the patio area of the resort's five-star restaurant and slowly picks at her Salade Niçoise.
As she starts to check her phone, Dr. Hereford approaches from her blindside and invites himself to her table.
"Dr. Isles."
Before she can respond, he is already sitting across from her.
"So glad to see you're feeling better."
Maura attempts to conceal her irritation with a polite coolness.
"Hello, Dr. Hereford."
"Dune, please."
"Yes… Dune."
"I, ahem, we missed you at the dinner last night."
"It was unfortunate that I had to forego the festivities but I needed to rest."
"All better?"
"It was only a slight headache… one that is threatening an imminent return."
"That salad looks delicious."
"I am not a fan of the tarragon…"
Before she can say another word, Dune grabs a fork and helps himself.
"Ugh, I see your point."
With her mouth agape, Maura finally manages to find the words.
"Dr. Hereford… I am an only child."
"That's interesting, I have three siblings myself."
"No, I mean that… I as an only child…"
She tugs the edge of her dish close to her.
"… do not like to share!"
Suddenly, she flashes back to her bed a few days before the shooting. Jane is wearing nothing but her Red Sox red socks for her chronically cold feet and a completely naked Maura is coiled around her body. It is extremely hot and humid. Rizzoli swallows down her bourbon on the rocks as Isles indulges in another spoonful of black cherry sorbet.
With a half smirk, Jane takes the ponytail holder out of her own dark locks and gently pulls back Maura's honey hair with it. She then boldly steals her lover's melted dessert and proceeds to pour it all over the two of them. They spend the next several minutes playfully kissing and licking it off each other.
"Well, mmmost of the time, that is."
Maura's memory-fueled heated expression causes Dune to cough. This snaps Isles out of her reverie and back to a less than ideal reality.
"I'm terribly sorry, Dune, is there something you needed from me?"
"I so badly want to show you my sea cucumber…"
Maura nearly spits out her iced green tea. He leans forward with his eyes wide and glazed.
"It would fit perfectly between your diatoms!"
"Dr. Hereford!"
"I mean my hypothesis would fit perfectly with your diatom corollary, for example…"
The man rapidly rambles on with scientific jargon to cover his true intentions. Isles imagines Jane coming up behind Dune, tapping him on the shoulder, and then cold-cocking him with one solid blow. She winks at Maura, playfully takes a bite of her salad, and struts away.
The absurdity of the whole situation causes a nervous giggle to erupt from Maura's mouth. Dune is not amused.
"You find my hypothesis funny? – I dedicated years of my life and millions of dollars on this research!"
"No, no, Dr. Here… Dune, it's not that, you'll have to excuse me, I have been under a great deal of stress lately and…"
The man reaches across the table and takes her hand in his.
"I understand completely and I want to be very candid with you, Maura, I want to spend a day in your head and a night in your bed!"
He kisses her hand and she yanks it back.
"Dr. Hereford, please!"
"Won't you let me?"
"You need to leave."
Thankfully, the waiter intervenes.
"Is there a problem, Madame?"
Dune regains his composure and adjusts his tie. Maura stares at him.
"I'm not sure… is there, Dr. Hereford?"
"No, if you will excuse me, Dr. Isles, I need to book a round of golf, good afternoon."
Dune abruptly walks away with the waiter watching.
"Is there anything else I can get for you, some dessert perhaps?"
"Dessert sounds perfect – you wouldn't happen to have any sorbet?"
Moments later, just as Maura starts to relax and enjoy her fancy frozen fruit, a very striking young woman with blonde hair and ice-blue eyes comes over to her table. Dressed in a taupe Armani Privé skirt and jacket, she studies Isles' purse and sorbet. The woman has a very noticeable accent.
"Forgive me for staring but I am not sure which is more tempting, your sweet treat or your clutch."
Maura can't help but snicker. She smiles at the woman and leans back. The woman takes the chair recently vacated by Dune.
"May I?"
Perplexed by the amount of open tables surrounding her, Isles wonders why she is Little Miss Popular today and nods in the affirmative.
"That is an Estonian accent, yes?"
"Impressive, most people guess Russian."
"The way you break your dipthong gives you away – the Finno-Ugric language family does not include Slavic."
"You are very good with tongue, Dr. Isles."
"Heh, thank you… wait, you know who I am?"
"I attended conference this week."
"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."
"Please call me Luule."
"Are you a doctor, Luule?"
"Erm, a kinesiologist perhaps – I couldn't help but notice you turned away very handsome man earlier."
"Yes, Dr. Hereford overstayed his welcome."
Under the table, Luule slides off her stiletto and runs the side of her foot along Maura's shin.
"It makes me wonder if you prefer company of very beautiful woman instead?"
"You don't work in healthcare, do you?"
"What I do is very healthful and I take great care."
Isles stifles her laugh and sighs.
"My pheromones must be off the charts today."
Luule retrieves an iPad from her tote and scrolls through the touch screen. She angles it for Maura to read.
"My menu and corresponding rates."
Maura's innate curiosity spurs a cursory glance. She shakes her head and takes out her phone.
"I can't help but be intrigued, flattered, and horrified at the same time – thank you, Luule, I do prefer the company of a very beautiful woman… her name is Jane."
Isles shows the blonde an image of Rizzoli sprawled out on a park bench, barefoot, in faded cut-off jeans, an Azzurre national team jersey, aviator shades and a big toothy grin.
"That… is yours?"
"In a sense, yes."
"She is with you now?"
"No, she is in Boston."
"I can try to be your Jane for afternoon or night."
"No one is Jane except Jane."
"Then, lady, why are you here eating ice?"
"Ahh, it's complicated."
"You know how many times I hear that in my profession?"
"Quite a bit, I am sure… actually, I could use your services for a few hours."
"I take personal checks, where is room?"
"Sorry, I only want to talk… I need to talk…"
Maura feels herself starting to tear up.
"I need to talk to someone who doesn't know me, who doesn't know Jane, and who can be utterly honest and objective…"
"You have no one else?"
"I don't want to see a professional – a medical professional – I can't speak to my mother about this and my friend Shoky is unaccustomed to the subject of female sexual intimacy… something tells me you won't have a problem with this topic."
The bemused blonde agrees and motions to the waiter.
"We will need much wine for this."
"A bottle at least…"
Nearly five hours later, with two empty bottles of chardonnay, a third basket of rosemary flatbread, and sideways looks from the waiter, Maura finally finishes telling the tale of Boston's hot hero detective and the cold rich ME to Luule the Estonian escort.
"And there you have it – that is why I am out here and Jane is back there."
"Unbelievable… is like bad basic cable TV show, no?"
"Yes, it sadly is."
"You two have been through much together."
"We have."
"And you two love each other."
"We do… deeply."
"Then what is problem?"
"Have you… have you not heard a word I said all afternoon?"
"I have and I understand why you need to be here, away from her, for your own emotional recovery."
"Thank you for agreeing with me!"
"But… you asked me to be honest and objective when it comes to Jane as well."
"I did, please continue."
"Maura, you are sex starving her!"
"What?"
"You are sex starv…"
"I heard what you said but I do not comprehend it – our relationship is vastly more complex than just sex."
"No, is not."
"Yes, it is!"
"Sweetie, what do you do for living?"
"I am the chief medical exam…"
"You cut up dead bodies for living."
"I… I do."
"What do I do for living?"
Isles nearly chokes on her own tongue and offers a defeated smirk. Luule smirks back.
"Trust me, it is sex – for both of you."
Maura hangs back in her seat and swallows the last few drops in her glass. Her paid companion continues.
"Jane frustrates you because she is essential part of your life now but won't acknowledge relationship publicly… oh, and she won't eat your pussy."
The waiter goes to refill their water glasses and does a quick pivot on his heel and rushes away after Luule's last comment. Maura turns beet red as Luule tsk-tsks at her empty water glass.
"It is shame men are so queasy over subject matter – I should I have said she won't eat your pussy during period so we could watch him drop pitcher and flee into parking lot."
"How… how much… do I owe you… for the billable hours?"
Luule taps away on her iPad and holds it up for Maura to read. The doctor takes out her checkbook and a pen.
"One last thing about your Jane… she is just as frustrated because she made life-altering discovery because of you and then you run off to San Diego – land of large marine creatures, crazy comic book fans, and sub par sports teams."
"But…"
"She is like child with shiny new toy."
"We have not even broached the subject of toys yet."
"No, you are toy, you gave yourself to her, she loves playing with toy, then you take toy away and hide it from her… big badass cop is already confused and vulnerable enough."
"And the sex starving is making matters worse."
"Yes… and two u's in name."
Luule takes the check from Maura and stands up from the table.
"Seeing how gorgeous your Jane is, you need to be careful she does not find new toy to play with."
"Thank you, Luule, you are an amazing 'kinesiologist'… if you ever want to pursue the real thing, I know a program in Paldiski."
"Good luck to you, Dr. Isles… good luck to both of you!"
The beautiful blonde waves goodbye and exits the patio area. The waiter hurries over, hands the tab to Maura without looking her in the eye.
"Bill it to my account, please."
"Very good, Madame."
With her legs stiff from sitting for so long, Maura takes a long walk around the greens of the golf course. She pauses under a shaded area of oak trees, pulls out her phone, and dials Jane. It goes to voicemail.
"Hello… I guess you're busy with your folks or Frankie – I hope you're busy with your folks or Frankie and no one else – Jane, I'm sorry if I'm sex starving you, goodbye."
Isles' phone rings back fifteen seconds later.
"Maura, what the hell kind of message is that?"
"I believe my message is self explanatory, Jane."
"Humor me and explain it in detail, you like doing that."
"Why didn't you pick up when I first called?"
"God, not this again… believe me, I wanted to pick up but I am trying my best to honor your wishes and give you some space, I don't want to haunt you with phone calls."
"I know, thank you for doing that… I apologize."
"Can we get to the sex starving comment?"
"We will… first, tell me, how was your day?"
"How was my day?"
"I want to hear your voice right now, how was your day?"
"My day was awful without you… and that Dr. Cuuu-ohen was the icing on the cake."
"Huh, she has a renowned reputation and her peer reviews are exemplary."
"She thinks I need more girlfriends."
"WHAT? – SHE DOES NOT KNOW WHAT SHE IS TALKING ABOUT, I MIGHT HAVE TO REPORT HER TO THE BOARD."
"Hold up there, babe, chill… she meant actual friend friends."
"I… I knew that."
"Are you okay?"
"I think I've had too much wine."
"Can we get back to the sex starving now?"
"Jane, you have female friends, you have your mother, you have me…"
"And?"
"Um, there's that lady at the dry cleaners who always gives you a discount – I think she has a thing for you because she always overcharges me for my dresses and, ooh, there's your cousin Marie!"
"I don't want to talk about Marie, she's going to be here tomorrow with her brats."
"That's nice – how long will she be staying?"
"Too long, now let's get to the sex."
"Are you back at your apartment?"
"Yep… and I'm starving!"
"Luule was right."
"Luuwho?"
"A guy with a lazy eye, a sea cucumber, and a kinesiologist-slash-callgirl walk into a hotel bar…"
"Is this a joke or a new reality show?"
"It's how I figured out I was sex starving you."
"Uh, whatever, tell me what you're gonna to do about it."
"Here let me show you…"
Maura taps her phone and sends a seductive picture of herself on top of her bed wearing nothing but Jane's black tie.
"I took it last night instead of going to the formal dinner – I was thinking about you the entire time…"
Jane almost drops her phone at the sight of the image.
"FUUUCK MEEE."
"That's rather difficult to do considering the circumstances but I will try my best."
Rizzoli rips off all her clothes in record time.
"I have never been so glad to be back at my own place!"
"Is your door locked?"
"Don't worry about it, I own a gun."
"I'm thinking of your mother."
"PLEASE don't be thinking of my mother right now!"
"You know Angela has a penchant for walking in unannounced."
"She has company coming over tomorrow, she's too busy cleaning the house."
"And this is the first night since… you know… that her injured baby girl is not at home."
"Crap, you're right!"
A nervous Jane peeks at the door, snatches a throw pillow, and places it over her middle.
"She will probably be over with cannelloni soon."
"But… but I wanted to do things with you, Maura."
"What kind of things, Jane?"
"You know… thinnngs."
"Thinnngs, hmmm?"
"Naughty thinnngs."
"What kind of naughty thinnngs?"
"Naughty thinnngs I shouldn't do but wanna!"
Isles cackles heartily out loud. A miffed Rizzoli glares at her phone.
"Why are you laughing?"
"Oh, you poor, poor repressed thing – no wonder you are so tense and angry all the time."
"Hey, not all the time… most of the time."
Maura grows serious. She doesn't notice Billy pulling up in a golf cart behind her.
"Jane, I want you to know that I am going to be there for you very soon and I am going to take care of all your needs…"
"Yeah?"
"Oh, yeah."
Billy strides over to his favorite guest and hands her a small, sealed envelope. Jane is unaware of what's happening and continues the conversation.
"No more sex starving?"
"No, I promise."
Isles pulls free a piece of hotel stationary and studies the handwritten note from 'Mr. Amblyopia.' It reads:
Behind the clubhouse in two hours
She gasps and waves off a concerned Billy.
"Maura… are you still there?"
"Uh-huh, annoying insect bite, that's all."
The detective is now breathing heavily into her phone.
"I want to tell you all about my horny – literally – dream from last night."
The doctor crumples the note in her hand as it forms a fist.
"And I want to hear all about it, Jane, every detail… but there is something I need to do, first."