Author's note: thank you very much for the reviews, if you have suggestions then don't hesitate and post them (I will see how I can insert them)

Chapter twelve – Desperate Housewife

9.45am

Only? Jane sighed and rolled her eyes. This could not be possible. The passing of time had to be there mocking at her and playing with her nerves. Why did the day have to go slow when all she wanted was it to speed up rather drastically? She had been laid off – temporarily – at 8.25am and she had had time to complain to her colleagues – go back to her place to pick up Jo Friday – then crash at Maura's because why not. And it was not even 10am now.

Two weeks. She had been laid-off for two weeks because she hadn't taken Friday's night shift as asked. Maura would be mad at her which was ironical since she had disobeyed Cavanaugh just to please the honey blonde in the first place. It was not her fault – well, not completely – if her partner had looked thrilled to introduce her to Andrew and his husband. Nice evening, besides.

Television: on. Surfing through channels mode: activated.

With Jo Friday on her lap and Coco Loco on her shoulder – since when cats imitated parrots? - she began to look for a program that would make her somewhat happy and would fill her day.

Hmm. Perhaps she should have called Maura before storming out of the BPD as she had done. Now that she retrospectively thought about it, she was pretty sure that her reaction hadn't been the most appropriate one. Yet how could she let her partner know? If the rumor hadn't made it to the morgue already. Now that was even worse. If Maura learned it from a third party, she would have to face one of the worst couple scenes in the whole history of human relationships.

"Alright, let's bake a cake. A gluten-free cake. It might slightly reduce her upcoming anger." Hey, Riz', you do realize that you are talking to a dog, a cat and a tortoise, right?

Cartoons on television, Jane dragged herself out of the couch and headed to the kitchen. She did feel guilty. Even more by the perspective of baking a cake. She couldn't buy Maura like that. But then she had been laid-off for the first time in her life so why not gorging herself on junk food for two weeks if only to make it sound sweeter?

She couldn't drink a beer at 10 in the morning.

Absentmindedly, she began to retrieve the ustensils – opening cabinets looking for ingredients while watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – and talking to her three acolytes who had followed her to the kitchen only to observe her with uncertainty.

If Maura would be mad then what was to say about her mother? Of course she had not left passing by the Division One Cafe, but had taken the elevator down to the parking lot directly instead.

There would be consequences. And not just her not being paid for the next two weeks.

"Love screws everyone, guys. Look at me. I did that for Maura and now I..."

Cat: checked. Dog: checked. Freaking African tortoise: not checked.

"Where the hell has Bass gone to?"

Her first reaction turned out to raise a suspicious eyebrow at Coco Loco before logic caught her back. A kitten could hardly get rid of a tortoise. Not like that. Not within a few seconds. Yet the three plates with exotic leaves had been left intact and Bass was nowhere to be seen.

It was not that the tortoise wasn't free to go anywhere in the house but the disappearance was quite suspicious. Bass was a slow one. It took him forever to cross the living-room so she should have been able to see him around.

"Uh oh."

That couldn't be good. First her being laid-off and now the tortoise went missing. Yep, Maura would definitely be mad at her when she came back home in the evening. Panic mode: activated.

Spatula in hand, Jane stepped into the living-room and took a deep breath.

Step one: secure the scene. Sigh. She couldn't use the yellow tape she had in her car for that. She had her limits. And yet... Step two: look for evidence. What kind of evidence? This was Maura's house, the place was as neat as the morgue. Step three: call the Chief Medical Examiner.

Step three: definitely out of the question.

Hand on her hip – the other running through her hair – Jane looked desperately around her. What was this day, exactly? A nightmare from which she would wake up soon? Biting her lower lip, she tried to focus on the best behavior to adopt yet not a single idea seemed to win over the other ones in her rather messy head. Ask Tommy for help? Ugh, of course not. Anyway, he was working. He could not come to the rescue.

Then what to do? Maura would have a heart attack if she happened to learn that Bass was missing. Disarmed, Jane walked back to the kitchen and looked down at Coco Loco and Jo Friday. They hadn't moved from their spot. If they had been men, she would have found them way too calm to not turn into the first suspects of the case.

Reluctantly and worried, she resumed the preparation of the cake. Perhaps Bass had moved faster than the usual. Why should she worry? There was no blood around. Nobody had died. Yet. Jeez stop freaking out like that. The damn tortoise probably went on a walk to the patio or something.

Side glance at the door left open ajar. It was a sunny day, warm enough. As she had arrived, Jane had immediately opened to let the sun come in. Yes, it had to be that. Bass had gone sunbathing. Could tortoises do that? Frown. Pout.

She picked her cell phone from the kitchen island and was Google-ing what had to be the most stupid animal research ever when her screen turned black for a few seconds before Maura's name appeared on the screen as the device began to vibrate.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. As much as she wasn't calling for Bass, the real reason why the scientist was trying to reach her wasn't better at all. Maybe even worse? Jane made a face. Nah. Nothing was worse than Bass missing. Nothing at all.

You're a good cop, Rizzoli. Trust your instinct. Don't answer that one. Nope. Don't do it. Don't press the green button or you will regret it. You know better than... Shit. Too busy fighting with her thoughts, she had actually missed Maura's call. Was that better or worse? And where was Bass?

Most stressful day out of work ever.

Text message. Uh oh.

Reluctantly – as if afraid her cell phone might explode to her face, driven by her partner's anger – Jane made a face as she opened the missive.

Jane Clementine Rizzoli, what have you done?

Maura

Okay... That wasn't as bad as she had assumed. Although using her full name was not optimistic at all. Hmm. Decisions, decisions. Perhaps you shouldn't ignore her for too long either. We never know. And it could make the whole Bass thing worse too. And what's that sound, exactly? There are works, outside?

A stifled sound echoed with regularity near her yet she could hardly identify its source. Her curiosity piqued, Jane made a step backward and focused on it. It seemed to come... From the kitchen island? You're getting crazy. Awesome. She knelt down - feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole thing – and stared at the cabinet in front of her. It did come from there.

A snake? Unless... Carefully enough, she positioned herself on a side to make sure that whatever was in it wouldn't just jump on her and slowly opened the cabinet. Bass stepped out of it.

"What the hell?"

New cell phone vibration. Staring at the tortoise as if it was just coming back from Mars, Jane stood up and grabbed the electronic device.

Answer me! What are you doing, exactly? And where are you?

Maura

Snort.

I was rescuing your tortoise from the kitchen cabinet.

Jane

A minute passed. Another one. The silence was becoming way too suspicious to her taste. After five minutes of no reply whatsoever, Jane resumed her baking. Maura might make a scene because she had been laid-off for not taking that night shift and running away to Brookline instead, she still would not try to kill her because Bass had reappeared.

That was still better than nothing.

Her phone vibrated. Ha!

Flour up to her mid-arms, she grabbed it and opened the message.

The kitchen cabinet? Jane... Have you been drinking?

Maura

Gasp. "What the..." Clenched teeth.

Lunch at 1.30pm at Picco?

Jane

By then she should have had enough time to actually bake that freaking cake. Look a the kitchen. And clean the mess.

Perfect. Oh and... Jane? Don't set my house on fire, thank you.

Maura