Author: eponinesghost (EppieG)
Title: I Want You To Want Me Part 11/?
Pairing: Rizzoli/Isles
Rating: Still tame, I'm afraid …
Disclaimer: Characters belong to the creators of Rizzoli & Isles. No infringement intended.
Notes/Summary: Afternoon delight, cocktails and moonlit nights …

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It was an absolutely gorgeous evening on the beach.

The light background of steel drum music and the breeze off the ocean were instant atmosphere enhancements.

Jane felt is if she didn't have a care in the world as she strolled toward the bar. It was an amazingly uplifting change. She also knew she looked terrific. She hadn't missed the lingering looks and turned heads as she passed.

And man, was she hungry.

Unsure only of whether or not she should seat herself at a table or wait for an attendant, she approached the bartender.

As he turned toward her, she recognized Miguel from her earlier introduction. Before she could pose her question, he grinned widely and exclaimed, "My goodness, don't you look smashing!"

Startled by his proper British accent, which she was certain she would have remembered when she and Gerard spoke with him the day before, Jane just blinked.

Her expression and pause earned her a deep, totally unselfconscious belly laugh.

"It's okay, I'm just messing with you. Have a seat." He motioned her toward the chair at the far end of the polished wooden counter.

"Um, alright."

Jane eyed him warily, not entirely sure she was eager to spend more time in his "zany" company. As she settled herself in the high stool, she folded her arms in front of her and assessed her host.

He was probably in his late twenties or early thirties. Quite good-looking, darkly tanned, dark hair, dark eyes. Dimples. Those made the corners of her lips turn up. Subtle earring. The tight resort-issued polo shirt accentuated his biceps and toned body.

Miguel caught her looking and performed an exaggerated bow in her direction, causing her to flush bright pink.

"So you're the single lady who's been hiding out in the honeymoon suite …" He leaned on one elbow conspiratorially. "Jilted at the altar or pulled a Julia Roberts in 'Runaway Bride'?"

Jane's mouth dropped open at his brashness.

"It's okay, you can tell me. I'm a bartender. We're like priests." He winked at her. "There's not much that happens here that the staff doesn't hear about – a resort is just like a small town – but they won't hear a peep from me."

Still speechless, Jane cringed slightly as she focused on the fact that not much occurred there that didn't get around. She was kind of mortified that she'd lost count of the pieces of key lime pie she'd ordered in the last few days.

Sensing her unease in the silence, Miguel's smile vanished. His voice was much softer as he lightly touched her wrist.

"Hey, my bad. I didn't mean to imply that there's been a lot of gossip about you. And I especially didn't mean to make you think that Gerard would ever … He's the last one to … wow, I totally misread this. Grandpa Magic is going to murder me."

"Grandpa Magic?"

"Yeah, Gerard." His smile was back. "Some of us call him that, or G-Magic, or G-Man." It was clear that all of the terms were completely affectionate.

Jane grinned. She wondered if they called him that to his face. She might have to try it.

Miguel relaxed with relief and withdrew his hand as her mood changed. "So I'm not getting turned in?"

When Jane shook her head, he made an overly dramatic point of wiping his brow. "Whew."

Then, without missing a beat, he leaned back in and murmured, "So … jilted or Julia?"

She tried to pull her eyebrow into her patented, "Really?" face, but chuckled in spite of herself.

"Something like that."

Conceding, Miguel moved down the bar. "I know exactly what you need … besides a plate of conch fritters and our secret sauce …"

Jane rolled her eyes. Gerard had spilled the beans. She did love the conch fritters.

"Yeah?"

"Sex on the beach."

This time Jane had no difficulty in making the face.

"Excuse me?"

Laughing, Miguel held up a hand. "Relax, mama. It's a drink. One I am going to make for you right now. Which you WILL love."

Jane shook her head in amusement.

This was going to be an interesting night.

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She had no idea.

The Rusty Pelican started getting busy around 8:00. In between customers, Miguel made sure to stay close to her end of the bar. They had developed quite a rapport in an extremely short amount of time and Jane was truly enjoying herself.

They also had an understanding that while Jane was comfortable being out and about, she wasn't keen on meeting and greeting or having anyone join her. Miguel was an excellent bodyguard-slash-protective brother figure. She had caught him waving several guys away from the empty barstool next to her, and was sure that he had managed to deter others without her notice.

She had devoured two plates of fresh conch fritters without regret. And several specialty drinks that Miguel had suggested, sometimes very suggestively. After she pushed her second platter away, she angled herself to be able to people watch as she sipped the latest concoction.

There were couples of all ages at the resort. Many picked up boxed meals and bottles of alcohol and made their way down the beach. The few tables that were beyond the main area of the restaurant were full, away from the bustle near the bar.

At one point, she saw Ivan making his way through the diners, headed toward the section past the restaurant where a band played and lights were strung all around a makeshift sand dance "floor."

Miguel caught the direction of her interest and leaned next to her.

"Ah … Ivan."

Only, the way he said the name, it came out sounding more like "E-vonn". Jane turned to look at him to see if he were playing with accents again.

At her look, he confided, "That's the way it's pronounced. He doesn't correct any of the guests. It's a way of staying somewhat disconnected, I suppose. If you pronounce it the right way, he knows you are more than just a groupie." He finished with a grin.

"I don't doubt that he has an abundance of those."

Just going by the group at the kick-boxing class that morning, he was definitely garnering his fair share.

"He's one of the resorts main attractions."

"I can see that. And I totally understand it." She grinned back. "Although, he's almost too attractive … if that's possible. And in my experience, that kind are usually total narcissists or not totally straight."

She was surprised that she had said that out loud. But she was sure that the drinks she had already downed weren't skimpy on the good stuff.

Miguel was shaking his head. "Not Ivan. Straight as an arrow. No bending. And believe me, I gave it my best shot."

Their eyes met and his were dancing at her reaction.

"Oh. Well, then. I'll take your word for it." She blatantly looked him over again. "You are very attractive yourself, you know, so if he passed that test …"

"Thank you very much, Janet … may I call you Janet?"

"No."

Now it was her turn to watch him falter. Smirking, she touched his forearm and beckoned him closer.

"That's not my name. But you have to promise not to tell Gerard. I love how he says it … and it's been kind of like a new identity, a new start for me here …"

He nodded.

"But since we're sharing … I'm Jane. There was a typo on my reservation."

They smiled at each other. Then he placed his hand over hers and responded, "It's so very nice to meet you, Jane. I'm Eric."

Both of them burst out laughing.

As she swiveled back around in her seat to face him head on once again, she mused. "That's not a typo."

"No ma'am."

Before he could elaborate, he was called to the other end of the bar. While she processed the last few minutes of information, she saw him signal to someone in the back, and then turn back to his new customer.

Another staffer appeared to whisk away her dinner platter and place a large piece of key lime pie in front of her.

Her initial reply was going to be that she was full and absolutely could not eat another bite, but then she realized that that was silly. She'd always have room for this pie. It was out of this world and she doubted she could ever get enough of it.

She made eye contact with Miguel …er, Eric … and sheepishly mouthed a 'thank you.' He nodded and finished his interaction a few yards away.

Moaning to herself over the first bite, she couldn't speak when he returned. But she could listen.

"So … I'm originally from Philly. Had the clichéd terrible childhood, bounced from place to place … always in some kind of trouble. Ended up hustling on the street …" He trailed off. "Anyway, I hooked up with what most people would call a 'sugar daddy' … he took me all over the world. Gave me everything I asked for … but I was miserable. He wasn't the nicest guy."

Jane's sympathy was written all over her face. Instinctively she reached for his arm again.

"Then we came here." His whole countenance brightened. "Gerard was our concierge. He read the situation right away …" His voice held a hint of awe that Jane could easily relate to.

"He managed to really reach me … make me understand that I had choices … that I wasn't trapped. And he got me a job on the grounds crew, in landscaping. That was ten years ago. I started going by Miguel because people asked fewer questions. Only a handful of folks here know me as anything else. And now you know."

If she hadn't already loved Gerard, this story would have put her over the top.

"He is magic, isn't he?"

Miguel nodded emphatically.

"So many places and people have tried to hire him away. He's legendary. One guy tried to buy the whole resort so that he could 'reassign' him as his personal valet. Gerard wouldn't have any of it. Said he would retire first. He's too happy where he is."

"So I guess there's no possible way I can convince him to come home with me to Boston."

"Not unless you can move most of the island. His family is here, and it's a pretty big family even if you don't count the 'strays' like me he's taken in. I've lost count of his grandchildren. And his wife is buried here."

Jane's heart immediately hurt for Gerard. That he'd suffered that loss.

"And he doesn't need the money. He's invested and saved. This IS the Caymans, after all. The resort pays him very, very well to keep him, or so they think." He laughed. "He trains all the new staff, monitors their progress. He works as a concierge less and less … pretty much when he feels like it. In fact, he wasn't scheduled to work this week until he found out there was going to be a single oc in the honeymoon suite."

Blinking, Jane realized what Miguel was saying. Gerard had been concerned about her even before he met her.

"He likes you a lot, you know. I bet he told you he'd be offended if you tried to tip him …"

Still too moved to speak, Jane nodded.

Laughing, Miguel continued. "He only does that to the ones he really likes. He lets the pretentious assholes throw all kinds of money at him. He usually passes most of it along to the staff."

Overwhelmed, Jane didn't know what to say. So she took another bite of fabulous pie.

Miguel was obviously pleased with her desert enchantment. He folded his arms on the bar and leaned toward her once again.

"I've told you my story … it's your turn to spill."

Talking with her mouth full, because they were friends now after all, Jane answered. "Not tonight … It's getting late and I have to go to bed early so that I can get up and run. And your drinks are too strong."

When he seemed disappointed, she hurriedly added, "Tomorrow night, I promise. Save my seat."

"You've got a date."

Noting that she still had pie on her plate and assuming correctly that she wasn't actually leaving until she finished it, he smiled widely again.

"I'm going to try to guess what you do, back in Boston, when you're not Janet."

"Go for it." She raised another forkful of pie.

He looked her up and down slowly, his brown somewhat furrowed.

"Former fashion model, turned fashion editor?"

Jane almost spit the pie in his face. Seriously? Her? The word "fashion" was like kryptonite to her. Maura would have a field day with that one …

Concentrating on not choking, she strongly shook her head.

"Okay … you're some kind of high level executive who has to be aloof and cutthroat for long hours at a time, sacrificing a personal life in order to be taken seriously and get to where you want to be …"

She had to hand it to him … he had a great imagination.

Swallowing, she coached, "You're aiming way above my head."

Skeptical at her comment, he put his chin in one hand and tried again.

"You're not a school teacher or a secretary … not that there's anything wrong with being either of those … or NOT being either of those …"

Jane finished the last bit of pie and scraped her plate with the fork.

"I got it!" He snapped his fingers. "You're some kind of government agent … and you have to have all these secrets that complicate your relationships and make it difficult to settle down."

Fighting hard not to smack her lips, Jane tilted her head to one side and pointed at him.

"Something like that."

Pushing away from the bar and sliding out of her seat before he could engage her in further conversation, she took his hand across the wooden surface.

"Thank you, Eric. For everything."

"It's truly been my pleasure, Jane."

With genuine fondness, she smiled back at him. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

"I'll be here. But no more conch fritters for you. I'll have something special waiting."

"Sweetie, you ARE something special."

Releasing his hand and drifting away, she was utterly content. Raising her face to the soft wind and letting it lift strands of her hair near her temple, she gazed up at the stars.

All of this would end soon enough, but while it lasted … she intended to soak it all in.

If she captured enough of it inside her, it wouldn't completely disappear when the clock finally struck midnight and she was plain ol' Cinderella again.

Suddenly, laughter bubbled up so effortlessly that she let it out in a burst.

She had just pictured Korsak as her Fairy Godmother.

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Her routine was almost identical on Wednesday.

The main difference was that besides herself, only three other women from the large group on Tuesday morning showed up again for kick-boxing class. Jane figured that the opportunity to spend time in Ivan's presence was canceled out by the amount of strenuous physical exertion required.

Ivan seemed to take it all in stride. In fact, he commented that it was to the benefit of the students remaining. They could go farther and faster without the others. He meant it. By the end of the time allotted, Jane was giving prayers of thanks that she had another appointment with Celia.

That had gone rather well, too. She wasn't as intimidated and picked up on Celia's more gentle aspects. Not that she was all that gentle.

When she had seen Gerard at breakfast, it was all she could do not to smother him with affection. Instead she tried to act like she didn't know everything Miguel … Eric … had shared with her the night before. Still, she couldn't keep a big smile off of her face the whole time he was there. She asked for another wake-up call so that she could nap in the afternoon again, and surprised the older man by kissing him sweetly on the cheek as he left.

Eric had greeted her warmly with a crab salad that was simply divine – and something called a 'screaming orgasm.' They agreed after some discussion that he was more comfortable being called Miguel now, and that she wanted him to call her Jane – as long as Gerard was out of earshot.

Over the course of the evening, she did reveal that she was a Boston police detective and he teased about not having such a high opinion of her profession from his time on the street. When it came time to talk about Maura … despite that fact that he had bared so much of his soul … she just didn't want to give details. Or dredge up the feelings she was trying so hard to master.

She truthfully told him that she had fallen hard for one of her co-workers. And that the sentiment wasn't returned in kind. That they were supposed to just remain close friends that saw each other nearly every day. She was sure he was curious about how the trip itself came about, but he didn't press and she was grateful.

She amused him with tales of her mother and siblings, and he had her cracking up over his favorite guest encounters. It was another lovely evening in paradise that was capped off, of course, by another generous helping of key lime pie.

When her head hit the pillow that night, she was wishing that she could call Maura and tell her all about it.

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Thursday morning dawned bright and clear, and it dawned on Jane as she finished her run that she only had two more mornings to adore this particular view.

When she'd first arrived, the days had stretched before her like an endless hike. Now she felt a pang of wistfulness that she'd be leaving soon. She knew nothing about the place she where she would be staying in the Bahamas the following week, but she knew that it would be different.

And that Gerard, Celia and Miguel wouldn't be there.

Having Gerard bring her breakfast every morning was something she had become very attached to. She supposed it was a good thing that she had to move along to a new location before returning home.

Kick-boxing class was down to her and one other woman, a cute little blonde cheerleader type named Amelia.

Ivan divided his time evenly between them, but that didn't stop Amelia from giving Jane the evil eye throughout the instruction. She was tempted to stick her tongue out at the back of Amelia's head, but there were mirrors everywhere so she resisted the urge. She was there to get a good workout, not troll for extracurricular activity.

She was rewarded with a shy smile from Celia when she greeted her enthusiastically at the door, so that was certainly a win.

And when she woke up before her call from Gerard, she felt like a million bucks. This whole pampered vacation thing was working. In fact, she felt so good that she wore one of her bikinis to dinner. She was covered by a sarong wrapped like a skirt and a blousy white shirt that hung open, but still. It was a beach bar after all and she was getting a fabulous tan. No reason not to show some of it off. Still, she felt slightly wicked.

The wolf whistle she got from Miguel was the icing on the cake.

"I'm going to have to bring in some extra muscle tonight, mama. Not sure I can keep the predators away with you looking so hot!"

Rolling her eyes, Jane tried to shush him.

"Oh stop. There are plenty of beach babes in here that are practically naked. And a lot younger and a lot more … top heavy … than I am."

"Girl, you are crazy! Do you have no idea what you look like?" He came around the bar and took her hand, lifting it high and forcing Jane to twirl around. "I mean, damn. Check out your abs!"

Before Jane could free herself, Miguel called out to one of the busboys. "Chico! " He raised his polo shirt to his chest, exposing an impressive six pack. Nodding toward Jane he prodded.

"Which one of us has the best cut, my man?"

Chico was blushing harder than Jane. "No contest, amigo. The lady is fine."

Dropping his shirt and hooting with laughter, Miguel ushered her to what had become her regular seat. As he helped her adjust toward the bar, he brushed her temple softly with his lips and murmured, "You sell yourself far too short, babe. You're the real deal."

He started to pull away and then angled her chin to look at her in the eye.

"Whoever this friend is … who just wants to be friends … that's the real crazy person, right there."

Jane would have teared up, but he flashed his amazing dimples and she couldn't help but smile. Instead she squeezed his fingers hard and whispered, "Thanks."

As he resumed his regular station across from her she caught his attention again.

"Hey Miguel?"

"Yeah?"

"How come no one has snapped you up? Being the real deal yourself, and all?"

His grin widened.

"Right now, there are just way too many choices on the menu, if you will … I'm still weighing my options … I haven't found my key lime pie, yet."

That was a direct hit. Jane died laughing.

"Speaking of choices … and sampling …" She waggled her eye brows at him. "Let's just stick to beer tonight, okay? It's really more my style."

"Whatever makes you happy, mama. 'Cause your even more gorgeous when you're smiling."

Lightly slapping his hand, Jane shot back, "Well, you're even cuter when you're doing what I want."

He popped the cap off an ice-cold Corona and handed it to her.

"These brothers you were talking about … are they as stunning as you are? And single?"

Jane took a long sip of beer as she considered his question, trying not to giggle as she thought about introducing Miguel to Frankie or Tommy.

"Well, first of all … Ew, they're my brothers so I don't think about them as stunning or the like, but yeah … I guess they'd be considered pretty attractive."

His eyes lit up.

"But, here's the thing. I think they both really like girls. Tommy especially."

His face started to fall, but then he cocked his head adorably and raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, but you aren't CERTAIN?"

Chuckling, Jane shrugged. Anything was possible she guessed. Three weeks ago, she would have claimed that she was a straight up heterosexual.

Before she kissed Maura. And realized how deep the desire was to go farther than that. How she ached for more.

She tilted her bottle back again for a drink and then raised it in his direction.

"Here's to possibilities …"

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the end part 11
thanks for reading!

Additional note: I realize that this is moving far too slow for some of you. Duly noted. The story has progressed much farther in my head than I'm able to put into words due to factors too multiple to mention. I won't apologize for sticking to the "script," but I do understand the frustration some of you have expressed. If you need to hope off the train, do so with my blessing. You can hop back on at a later stop :)