Note: Let's not discuss where I've been the past few months. It involved an all-in poker game, a one-way plane ticket, and an elaborate "I quit" performance. I promise that I have not given up on this story. Still a few more twists to come.
Darkness wrapped around him like a cloak. It was familiar and welcoming and he had forgotten how it felt to be a shadow. He sat in the armchair in her living room, waiting patiently. He didn't bother to check his watch because he didn't worry about the time. Experience had taught his body to gauge the passing of each hour more accurately than any clock. She had to come home eventually. He was in no rush. Patience had saved his hide on more than one occasion.
It had been a while since he needed to bypass a home security system, but it still took him no more than 5 minutes to deactivate the machine, slip in, and turn the system back on. He let a smug grin flit across his face. Old man's still got it.
Headlights from the street flashed through the window, the glint reflecting off his glasses. He heard the key turn in the lock, the slick of the deadbolt sliding free, the beep of the security system as she disarmed it. He heard her heels against the wooden floor, click-click-click down the hall. There was a pause in her step, not even long enough for him to exhale, and he knew before he heard the cock of her gun. He grunted in acknowledgement.
"Spencer, I swear I'll shoot you in the knee if you don't tell me why you're sitting in my apartment in the dark. If you wanted to visit, you could've just called."
"Hi Sammy. How you doing? How's the family?" Spencer pushed himself to his feet and held his hands up loosely by his shoulders, showing that he was unarmed. He grinned and shuffled forward. Sam rolled her eyes and re-holstered her gun, letting the leather jacket fall back down to cover her firearm. The two embraced and when they separated, Spencer had Sam's gun and Sam had the pistol that had been tucked into the older man's waistband. Both lowered the weapons, slowly, onto the coffee table.
"The boys are doing fine, but you knew that. You see them enough with all the 'consulting' you like to do for the company. I know it's just an excuse for you all to shoot the shit."
"Good to see you're still just as eloquent as ever."
"And you're still just as spooky as ever. Sitting in the dark. I could've killed you."
"Nah, I taught you better than that."
Sam laughed and shook her head, ponytail whipping back and forth. "Most computer geeks I know don't hit the killshot every time."
"What does that make you?"
"Touche," Sam admitted with a smirk. She saw the look on his face before he pushed it aside: Pride. Years ago, Sam's father had employed Spencer to help Markley Technologies develop and build its cybersecurity services. Over time, Spencer had become a member of the family and Sam treated him as a surrogate father when hers passed away. For Spencer, whose career choices took away any and all opportunities to have a family of his own, Sam held a special place in his heart.
"Spencer, why are you here?" Sam asked, though she already knew the answer. She walked into the kitchen, choosing to keep the lights off.
"It's really quite a funny story. Someone hacked into my server and triggered the cleaning process. I created that system and I can guarantee you it was more secure than what most governments use."
"That's not saying much," she murmured under her breath. Sam opened the fridge door and took out a bottle of Fiji water, not bothering to offer Spencer a beverage. As paranoid as he was, he probably wouldn't accept anything he didn't bottle himself. She twisted the cap off and took a long sip, enjoying the silence and waiting for him to continue.
"Someone, with a tremendous amount of talent and an intimate understanding of my system, wants to protect a certain Dr. Maura Isles." He watched her, eyes sharp, waiting for her tell. Sam's fingers dug into the water bottle, the plastic giving just a little bit more. Bingo. "How long have you and Dr. Isles been friends?"
Sam lowered the bottle, resting it on the granite countertop. "Spencer, I didn't know it was you at first. I heard from one of my sources that there was a contract out for information on Maura. I followed the bread crumbs, just like you taught me to do."
Spencer nodded. "You be careful, Sammy. Something about this doesn't feel right."
"You're telling me," she exhaled. The only response she received in turn was the deadbolt sliding back into place. Sam was more than a little concerned that Spencer shared her suspicions. This was a man who had taken on terrorist cells and dictators. His bad feeling translated into other people's nightmares.
R&I: The Good Doctor
Jane stalked the length of the room, tension rolling off her body. Fury and fear incited her movements and Rafael couldn't help but notice the detective's hand constantly dropping to touch the grip of her firearm. There was a coiled ferocity in her stride and the general manager suspected that she kept her anger restrained for the sake of the honey blonde sitting on the other side of his desk.
The number used to order the flowers was traced to a payphone down the street from the hotel. The credit card information was linked to a Visa gift card, purchased at the CVS around the corner. The florist only remembered that a man had called in the order, but there was nothing distinct or particularly memorable about the voice on the phone. Other than the florist and the deliveryman, no one else had handled the flowers. All dead ends.
Maura's fingers traced the edges of the card that came tucked between delicate petals. Mors ultima linea rerum est. Death is everything's final limit.
"How the hell did he find out where we're staying?"
"Language," Maura stated automatically, though Jane's choice to use 'we' as opposed to 'you' did not go unnoticed. "The flowers represent disappointment."
"Maura, I know you have high standards for the types of flowers you receive from your many admirers, but now is not the time to talk about how disappointed you are that these aren't red roses."
"Yellow carnations symbolize rejection or disdain, disappointment." Maura's hazel eyes stared at the arrangement, taking a moment to stop the waver in her voice. "It's a message."
"I'm pretty sure that creepy card is the message. The flowers are just for show," Jane joked, trying to bring levity to the situation. Maura lifted her gaze and her reprimand died on her tongue as she met dark eyes, reassuring and protective and safe. "Maura, nothing will happen to you as long as I'm breathing. I promise."
For the first time since they entered Rafael's office, the doctor smiled and momentarily pushed aside the grim implications of her special delivery. A Jane Rizzoli promise was as good as truth. Without a second thought, Maura held out her hand and Jane was immediately by her side, clasping their hands together. Rafael watched the interaction, intrigued by the reaction both women had to that small bit of physical contact. The honey blonde appeared anchored, pulled from the depths of her own genius and firmly grounded in the present. At the same time, the barely restrained intensity seemed to melt away from the brunette's frame, the detective finally settling her paces.
If there is a happy ending here, it better be for these two.
R&I: The Good Doctor
How quickly the Doctor forgot. But no matter. Surely the flowers were a pleasant reminder of their relationship. Icy blue eyes raced down the printed list of conference attendees. Names of the country's preeminent medical examiners, pathologists, scientists, and academics. Many were considered colleagues, friends even. All of them were respected professionals in this field. Pity one had to die.
Steady fingers trailed over the black and white letters, waiting for inspiration. Roger Hamstech. It was rumored that he sat on the committee that peer reviewed the Doctor's latest published article. Hamstech was an adjunct professor at one of the Ivies, a glorified babysitter for medical students. He now spent more time on his boat than he did in a morgue, and more time gutting fish than dissecting cadavers. Divorced twice, widowed once, no children. His death wouldn't be a tremendous loss.
Parker sat at the conference registration table and pretended to read the program. She watched the tall gentleman search through the list of attendees, eyes surreptitiously sweeping over his frame. He wore a dark suit, pressed lines still crisp on his dress pants. His white oxford shirt was tailored, collar unbuttoned. Parker had watched him walk through the hotel lobby, greeting others with a smile and a firm handshake. She would be lying if she said she didn't find him irrepressibly attractive. Even if he was old enough to be her father.
He turned and braced both hands on the table, leaning forward and towering over her. It was a way to establish authority and power. His lips broke into a slow, predatory smile and his icy blue eyes locked on hers. Parker was so turned on, she forgot to breathe.
"You're a pretty little thing. Why don't you tell me where Dr. Hamstech is and then you and I will go grab a drink."
R&I: The Good Doctor
After leaving Rafael's office, Maura and Jane didn't broke contact. They rode the elevator in silence, Jane's hand lingering on the small of Maura's back and Maura gently pressed against the detective's side. The ding signaled their arrival and Jane instinctively reached for her gun as the doors slid open. Before Jane could confirm the hallway was empty, Maura was already walking towards the room.
"Maura!" Jane hissed, quickly chasing after the honey blonde.
"Yes?" Maura acknowledged the detective with a glance over her shoulder, not bothering to slow down.
"Maura, get away from that door," Jane whispered loudly, nudging the petite honey blonde over. "There could be someone inside."
"I want to change out of my heels."
Jane paused and slowly turned to look at the doctor. "Are you serious? You're prioritizing your stupid shoes over your life?"
"Don't you think you're being a little dramatic? I've already moved into your room and you're staying here under the name Jane Francis." Maura gently pried the key card from Jane's fingers, sliding it into the lock. The security light flickered green. She started to push down on the handle when she felt Jane's hand over hers, the brunette's body against her back. Maura felt like she was on fire and she had to fight every instinct from pressing back into the detective.
"And don't you think you're being a little reckless?" Jane closed her eyes to regain control of her senses. She was overwhelmed by the scent of Maura Isles and the warmth of her soft curves. She struggled against the urge to wrap her arms around the doctor. Her fingers tensed over Maura's, flexing. The honey blonde's breath caught in her throat and Jane felt it before she heard it. Jane's words caressed Maura's neck, her lips almost skimming along bare skin. The moment stalled, both waiting for the other to move. To say something. To do something.
The sound of a door slamming from the somewhere in the depths of the hotel brought the two crashing back to reality. Jane abruptly took a step back and cleared her throat, scanning up and down the hallway. Maura felt a wave of disappointment as she opened the door, until Jane's hand returned to the small of her back. The doctor bit down on her lower lip and let a tiny smile tug at the corner of her mouth.
"C'mon, princess. Let's get you out of those Louie button shoes."
"Jane," Maura started, secretly thrilled at the detective's term of endearment, "They're Louboutin!"
R&I: The Good Doctor
Rafael wheeled the service cart into the room just enough for the door to close behind him, letting the detective check for any hidden devices or threats before proceeding. He had personally overseen the preparation of every dish in the kitchen and insisted on delivering the meal himself under the premise that it was for a wealthy Hong Kong real estate tycoon.
"Detective Rizzoli, I understand this current lodging arrangement is not ideal…"
"Nonsense, Rafael, we're very comfortable and you've been more than generous in your hospitality," Maura interrupted as she emerged from the bathroom. The doctor had pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail, a few golden waves framing her face. Expecting to spend the rest of the night in lockdown, she had changed into an oversized Boston PD shirt and yoga tights. Rafael and Jane both stared, but for different reasons.
Rafael, in all his interactions with the overly polite and formal Dr. Isles, had never seen the woman in anything other than runway clothes and heels from the leading fashion houses. Jane, in her entire career as an officer of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, had never seen anyone make a department issued shirt look so good. The detective's brown eyes darkened as they trailed over Maura's figure, following the lines of her body as they played hide and seek in the loose material.
Rafael shifted his gaze back and forth between the brunette and the blonde. He could die of a heart attack and neither would notice. He made a poor excuse of needing to check his voicemail and opened the door to leave, his departure met with Jane's absentminded wave and Maura's too chipper and rushed, "Thank you, Rafael!"
Now in the hallway, the general manager felt ten degrees cooler but still tugged at the collar of his shirt. The air between the two women was electric and heated, and he was about to combust from just standing near them. If that's what it was like all the time, it was a miracle Boston ever caught any criminals.
Jane closed the distance, her fingers playing along the hem of the cotton shirt. She gave it a gentle tug, pulling Maura closer. They were inches apart.
"I see someone's been in my drawers," Jane husked with every intention of double entendre, her dark eyes dropping to Maura's lips. She wanted nothing more at this moment than to know what kissing the doctor tasted like.
"It's a very comfortable shirt, despite the mixed cotton-blend," Maura responded, tilting her head up in an invitation. One hand settled on Jane's arm. She wanted to bury the other in that wild mane of dark brown curls.
"I don't expect I'll be getting that shirt back anytime soon." It looks so good on her, I don't want it back. I want to kiss her. I want to touch her. Hell, I want to be more than just best friends.
"You always say how much you dislike it." She's never getting this shirt back. I want to kiss her. I want her to kiss me. To touch me.
"I've never seen it worn like this before. It may be my new favorite shirt." Jane's gaze never left Maura's mouth. God, those dimples. This woman is going to be the death of me. It was a tipping point. Later, neither would be able to recount the exact series of events. Both women claimed responsibility for initiating the kiss, but the truth might never be known. The moment their lips touched, the world around them fell away and only they existed.
R&I: The Good Doctor
Frost's phone vibrated, announcing an incoming text. He muted the television, eyes still glued to the basketball game, and reached for his cell. The sender's name caused him to do a double-take. The television was all of a sudden less interesting.
We are in trouble. Need help. Meet at Powell's Bar.
Sam wasn't used to asking for help, but if she wanted to keep Maura safe and alive, she needed to share her secrets.