Author's Note: Okay, this... would be part 2 of chapter 10? Can I call it that? Because we're not quite into Maura/Rizzoli territory yet but this bit definitely has to happen first... and I PROMISE it is coming, next chapter, I promise. And I'm really really looking forward to it too :) But don't give up on this chapter.. because.. well.. context, aaand information. And things.

Thank you all for your support and your patience and wonderful comments.. really I am so appreciative you guys take the time to even read let alone say something about what you're reading :) It keeps this thing ticking along, really it does, you have no idea. But have to say a particularly big thank you and shout out to T and the two Rams in my ear and my inbox - you know who you are - these chapters may be taking a bit more time to form than I would otherwise like but the fact it's moving forward at ALL has a lot to do with your respective boots in the muse's backside ;)

Tx


Prometheus - Chapter 11


It bubbled up from within her like soda in a bottle shaken one too many times, the shuddering attempt to contain the gasp that drew violently through her mouth, trapped in her attempts at restraint only to find another way in...

And Dr Maura Isles, picture of delicacy and etiquette –

Snorted.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes and shielding her mouth and nose from view with the same hand, the smile too wide not to be reflected in almost every muscle of her face. She gripped her other arm across her aching stomach.

The man across from her showed no such care for poise. Still in the throes of near-paralytic laughter himself, he rocked backward into his chair, shaking his head, teeth bright against the dim light shining over the table.

"My God Doctor-" He sputtered, a faint wheeze on his breath. "If you could have seen this guy – and the look on Susie Chang's face!" He leaned forward again, his hand rubbing over his shortly cropped hair. "I find your preamble quite stimulating…!?" The quote included an attempt at a Connecticut/Boston hybrid upper-class accent, before it lilted into an uncontrollable whine, then a stronger wheeze, and Frost trailed off, his shoulders shaking.

Maura found herself giggling again, her hand releasing her stomach and finding its way to the stem of her wine glass. "I can't say that would be a line I've ever been wooed with.." Her voice squeaked, fresh tears pricking mercilessly at her eyes. "Or would ever want to!"

Frost gripped his beer and managed a large gulp, cautiously swallowing around the threat of more laughter. Maura shook her head. It wasn't like her to engage in this sort of humorous discussion at another person's expense, but based on Frost's account of events at the Halloween party Dr Pike had been inebriated and his behaviour awfully unprofessional.

Plus, after the last few days she couldn't deny the rush of endorphins she was now exposed to felt simply wonderful.

"Goodness…" She said finally, her facial muscles relaxing into a more regular and less cheek-splitting shape. She took several shaky breaths and dabbed the bar napkin once more at her eyes. "I needed that."

"Tell me about it-" Frost agreed, still smiling too brightly to be considered solemn. He swallowed another mouthful of beer. "The people we deal with every day?" He shook his head. "And you!" He continued, jabbing a finger at her and narrowing his eyes. "You've had trial by fire, Doctor."

Maura rolled her shoulders back unconsciously, feeling the pop of ligament sliding against bone. She leaned into her glass and took a delicate sip.

"Ramsey was certainly…." She paused, tilting the wine toward her as if it would provide her with the appropriate adjective. "Surprising."

"Surprising?" She looked up to find Frost cradling his own glass in his large hands, astonishment written across his features.

Maura released a sigh. "Unsettling…" She clarified.

Frost raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair again. "I'm… surprised," He emphasised the use of the word, "-That Ramsey is the first name that has come to your mind, given your experience over the last few days."

She broke eye contact with him immediately, Frost caught it.

"Doc..." He said quietly.

"I know," Maura immediately held up her hands in an act of futile defence. "-I know." She repeated. "If it were me in your position I would think the same thing. I.. I have thought the same thing as a doctor, about some of the nurses on my own ward with patients they treat. But… I just-" She shook her head, turning it to the side… to the door.

Exactly what she expected to be there – someone, an exit, a distraction - Maura wasn't sure, but whatever it was, it wasn't forthcoming, and the conversation had no choice but to free-fall back out of the limbo above them.

"Murderers come in all shapes and sizes doctor." Frost said gently, drawing her gaze back to him. He chuckled . "You know that sweet old woman, Miriam, whose pacemaker you checked on this week?"

The doctor smiled a little at the recollection. "Yes, she's quite charming." She said, even knowing she was walking into a trap – Ian used to do this to her all the time, back in a day when she had so much to learn from him and suffered none of the side effects. A point was coming. Maura took a sip of her wine, surprised by how easily it slipped past her often-too-fussy-for-their-own-good tastebuds, gliding warmly down her throat.

It felt both uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time… as if something inside her recognised how much safer this trap was than the one she had actually fallen into.

Frost downed another significant mouthful of beer. "She murdered four of her lovers over a period of 10 years." He said. "The women didn't stand a chance."

It had to be something like that. Maura knew – but even still…

"Really, Frost," She continued, her fingers running up and down the stem of her wine glass absently. "Don't you ever wonder if she – is a little… different?"

"Do you?" She gave him her best withering glance at his question, irritated he had asked it knowing full well the answer. Frost raised both eyebrows in conciliation. "Look, Rizzoli's brooding, I'll give you that." He slid his empty beer glass to join the other two, motioning to the bartender who nodded once and pulled down on a nearby tap. "But after that first incident with Ramsey-"

He said it almost distractedly, without even looking at her, in the way a person speaks when they know for sure the other person is well aware of what they are talking about. Instead, he turned back to her just as Maura felt the blank look sweep across her face, and she watched as his hand slapped softly to the surface of the table in a mixture of surprise and shock.

"You still haven't?" He asked, leaving out the rest of the question.

The Doctor shook her head no, feeling it better to let her silence defend her...as frankly she was tired of defending herself on this one point.

She was a little surprised when, rather than press at it, Frost made a subtle secondary action at the bartender that Maura soon realised equated to her own glass being replaced. She considered protesting… but the warmth in her belly and the flush of her cheeks didn't seem quite enough to do so.

"She's just not–" She started, turning back towards the door. "Now Ramsey. Ramsey is someone I could imagine being in that place. Aggressive, crass… completely disrespectful." She took a deep breath and twitched her lips to one side. "Jane is-"

She felt the stare before she dared to acknowledge it. "Jane?" the word rolled off his tongue, foreign like a disease. Maura didn't like it.

"-her- name…" She clarified, trying to keep the glare out of her eyes when she returned them to his. "She gave it to me." She shook her head, sighing. "Frost, she was going to attack me today, but she stopped." A full beer and wine appeared beside them on the table and they both gripped their respective beverages. His dark eyes were marked by further question, and Maura shrugged, her fingers curling around the outside of the glass. "She stopped. Because I told her to, because I asked her to. And she stood totally still, unrestrained, and…" Her eyes shifted down to the golden-yellow liquid in front of her then back up to the man sitting on the other side of the varnished wood surface. "I didn't feel threatened at all."

Frost sucked his lower lip in underneath his teeth, tapping his finger against the side of his glass. His features never changed, they weren't accusing, or incredulous… just… concerned.

"Ramsey killed Rizzoli's cellmate." He said. The comment initially felt out of the blue, until Maura drew the edges of the earlier conversation together with the words and realised what he was doing.

"Frost-" It was a feeble attempt at interruption, and it died quickly on her lips when he reached across the table and placed a gentle hand over hers.

"Doc-" He said, squeezing lightly. "You need to know."

Mara knew it was coming. Whether in that file or someone else's account, it would become increasingly difficult for her to steer clear of it.

With a resigned sigh she nodded. "Cellmate-" she started to say, then furrowed her brow, a name popping into her memory as clearly as if Ramsey's file were still in her hands. "Macy Collins."

Frost nodded, leaning back again, reaching back to his full beer glass. "Bled out, right in front of us... right in the mess hall." He took a large sip, wiping the foam from his lips with the back of his hand. "They never figured out how Ramsey got that shank inside. That woman is… resourceful to say the least."

Maura winced. Frost chased the first sip with another.

"Anyway, Rizzoli lost it, totally." He continued. "We hadn't seen truly seen it – that side of her – until that day." Placing the beer back down again he leaned further back in his chair.

"They fought?" Maura tried to imagine it – surprised with herself how easily the image came to her mind. It sent a chill down her spine.

"Oh yes." Frost nodded, "It was… brutal. Korsak had to use tasers on them both, and Rizzoli-" He swung his leg out to one side of the table and jabbed the tips of his fingers a couple of times into his upper thigh "-She had that damned blade jammed into her leg - bleeding like all hell-" His hand lifted into the air, palm up. "-She still managed to break one of the guard's jaws. Fractured her wrist doing it." He broke away from her gaze and stared down at his glass, shaking his head, beer spinning slowly around on its flimsy cardboard coaster. "I've seen black bears less animalistic than her." He said. "Three weeks in infirmary, three months in isolation. And nothing but trouble ever since." He shrugged and glanced back up at her. "Trust me when I say Doc, Rizzoli is dangerous with a capital D."

But Maura had missed everything of his added sentiment, everything except the first two words, which fixed in her mind on repeat, like a record stuck over a scratch. Her glass now hung motionless on its original path to her lips.

"Doc?" He tried again.

"Three weeks?" She repeated, softly. "Are you sure?"

Frost's eyebrows knitted at the question, obviously confused. "Give or take a few days, yes." He said. "Look, I'm not-"

"No-" She blinked, "No, it's fine," A quick shake of her head, and the wine resumed its path. However this time when she took a sip it hovered unpleasantly over her tongue, so much so she had to take a moment to acclimatise herself to it, and the subsequent swallow. She frowned as the words reassembled themselves once again in her mind.

Three weeks.

"It's just… a very long time to be admitted anywhere for a laceration to the leg. Even a deep one." She added, "Even with a fractured wrist."

Frost shrugged "There was a lot going on back then. The fight was all over the news; the warden was transferred, Jameson ended up in caretaker warden role – so the infirmary was probably a little understaffed for a while. Plus it was basically in lock down, along with the rest of the prison… only Jameson and his orderlies could come and go." He smiled, tapping a finger against the side of the glass. "Jack Roberts was the orderly responsible for her at the time - and I'd normally recommend talking to him if you have questions but..."

Maura's eyes flashed recognition. "She killed him…" She said slowly, unable to ignore the subtle tug at her consciousness that something… something wasn't right.

She slid the glass away from her, suddenly unwilling and unable to drink any more. The tug was turning into a pull.

She caught Frost's nod out of the corner of her eye.

"She killed him."