A/N - I noticed I forgot to mention Frank Senior in the previous chapter. Let's all just pretend he was out grabbing everyone some coffee and sandwiches whilst that was going on. So, this chapter is a little differed, kind of like the eye of the storm I suppose. I thought the story needed a break from the trauma, just a reminder that eventually, there might just be a happy ending on the cards. Don't worry, we'll get right back to the action and recovery next Chapter, for now, enjoy! Reviews, suggestions and constructive criticism are always welcome as usual.
Detective Jane Rizzoli flashed her best friend a wide grin, dimples deepening and dark eyes glowing in the dim light. "You're tryna tell me you've never done karaoke? C'mon Maura, everyone's done it once!" The Doctor tipped her head to one side, considering this rather bold statement, which prompted Jane into taking action. She clapped her hand over Maura's mouth, whose eyes widened in surprise and amusement. "That ain't your cue to start lecturing me." The Detective warned, cocking her eyebrow as she tried to fight the smile that threatened at the sight of the usually refined and elegant Doctor Maura Isles sitting back against her comfortable pillows, a bottle of beer in her hand, cheeks flushed from one or two too many cocktails at the Dirty Robber that evening. Maura, sensing that her friend thought she had succeeded in silencing the oncoming onslaught of statistics, gave the hand covering her mouth a light lick to which Jane let out a squeal of indignation, theatrically wiping her hands on her dark jeans and scowling at the very smug looking Doctor. "Ew, ya got your cooties all over my hand." The Detective said, hiding her smile by taking a gulp of beer, appreciating its slightly bitter, yet fresh taste as it slid down her throat.
"Jane don't be so absurd," Maura said with a prim shake of her head, "There's no such thing." Jane rolled her eyes and leaned forward, planting her bottle on the table with a soft thud. She rubbed her hands together as though warding off a non-existent chill.
"You let me down tonight Doc, we had to forfeit the game to Frost and Korsak all 'cause you wouldn't sing a little song! They're gonna hang this over me all week now." The Detective pouted, eliciting a snort from her friend.
"Jane, I'm sure losing a simple game of 'Truth or Dare' isn't going to negatively affect your career in any way." At the flash of amusement tinged with exasperation on Jane's face, Maura chuckled to herself. "Y'know, sometimes I wish you'd never learned how to back chat me Doctor Isles." The sound of her title dripping from the Detective's mouth in that honey smothered raspy voice gave the Doctor pause for a second as she imagined her friend whispering that name in an altogether more intimate setting. She pulled herself back to reality with a mental shake, warning herself not to dwell on such things when the incredibly receptive Jane Rizzoli was around to notice.
"Yes well Detective," Maura said, placing extra emphasis on her friend's own official title, "Not all of us have the voice of a fairy." Jane choked on her mouthful of beer and struggled not to inhale anymore of the liquid while Maura thumped her back just a little too enthusiastically.
"Angel Maura, voice of an angel." The Detective husked out, her cheeks a bright red from lack of oxygen. Maura shrugged daintily, placing the rim of her own bottle against her bottom lip,
"Whatever," She replied airily, carefully watching Jane as her gaze followed the path of the bottle rolling against a plump bottom lip.
There was a technique to fighting back to consciousness. It was similar to breaking the surface of water in a pool or the ocean. One feels as though it is too far away, impossible to reach, but really the mind is simply playing tricks. Awareness is within touching distance, you just have to throw yourself at it and your head will break the surface. But Maura Isles wasn't quite ready to leave the reassuring, comforting fogginess of sleep behind quite yet. Not when such pleasant memories and sensations were flooding her semi-conscious mind.
It was the hottest day of the year so far. In fact, it was the hottest day recorded in Boston for over twenty years, according to Doctor Maura Isles, who never seemed to run out of statistics or snippets of information on every subject imaginable. Not that Detective Jane Rizzoli even had the energy to roll her eyes at her best friend. Hell no, not today, not right now when she felt like she was about to spontaneously combust right there in the middle of Maura's rather huge back yard on the pretty little patterned rug her friend had thrown down on the grass for them to lie on. Her Ma had retreated into the Guest House, complaining loudly that 'All this heat wasn't good for a woman her age' and that she was considering 'Taking a cold bath filled with ice cubes,' to which Maura warned her may actually adversely affect her over heating body by lowering her core temperature too quickly and fooling the body into thinking it had to work harder to warm her up. At this, the elder Rizzoli had raised her eyebrows and muttered something about 'Maybe I'll just have a popsicle then' which Maura had brightly assured her was a perfectly safe option. Now it was just the two of them lying in the shade, listening to the music playing softly from a stereo a couple of yards away from them. Maura was absently waving an embroidered fan in a constant motion near her face, humming gently now and again at the pleasantly cool rush of air over her skin. She was so engrossed in the novel propped up against her knees that she did not notice that her friend's gaze had been fixed on her for over a minute now, silently drinking in the most perfect image she had ever seen with greedy eyes. Even with the biggest, silliest looking straw hat placed haphazardly on top of her honey blonde curls, with sweaty tendrils of hair plastered to her forehead, with the most boring looking novel pressed against her thighs... She was just so beautiful. She was so beautiful that it almost hurt to look at her. She was kind of like staring at the sun. It was a good kind of hurt. The ache wasn't painful; it made the Detective feel warm inside and out, hence the concept of staring at the sun seemed to suit her predicament seeing as staring for too long was dangerous. It wouldn't do her any favours to be caught staring at her friend in a highly inappropriate manner. What could she possibly say to defend that? 'Oh sorry Maura, just got a little mesmerised by your rack of God for a sec there, please excuse me.' No no, that just would not do.
Maura Isles, for her part, even when reliving that memory, failed to notice the Detective's undivided attention resting solely on her that summer's day. Second time around, she was just as oblivious to the unbridled love and lust in Jane's eyes whilst she gazed up at her through trembling dark lashes. And when Detective Barry Frost opened the door to the small room she had been bundled into to recover from the shock that had finally overwhelmed her when confronted with the sight of Jane in that bed, he couldn't help but smile upon seeing the Doctor looking so childlike and innocent, curled up in the foetal position, clutching her knees to her chest… And smiling. The Doc, although she was pretty much out of it, was smiling to herself. He decided to leave her for a little longer and allow her to soak up as much strength and comfort from her dreams whilst she still had the chance. She was damn well going to need it in the weeks to come.
"MAURA! MAURA COME HERE!" Jane's excited, and exceedingly loud, shouts brought the Doctor back into the living area in what was almost a sprint. She skidded to a halt behind the taller woman, panting a little.
"Jane!" She scolded her friend for needlessly scaring her, trying to resist the temptation to slide her arms around the inviting expanse of Jane's toned abdomen, which was hidden beneath an oversized Christmas jumper her Mother had purchased. She had been warned to adorn the gift on the previous Saturday night when they all got together at Maura's house. Maura found it endearing that although Jane had whined endlessly about wearing the offending garment, she was now reluctant to remove it, claiming it was indeed, 'pretty darn comfortable.' Jane swung around, her face shining with enthusiasm. She took the Doctor's hand and pushed her until Maura was directly in front of her, staring out the window on her tip toes.
"It's snowing! It's gonna be a white Christmas after all." The Detective said happily. Maura knew when her friend next got a call to a crime scene she would curse the snow and the cold all to hell, but right now, she couldn't help but be swept away by the joy and wonder painted on Jane's face. Maura glanced behind her, grinning widely at her best friend, silently marvelling at how this woman could look so attractive dressed in a ridiculous Christmas jumper, worn out jeans, hair a tangled, untameable mess.
Then, all of a sudden, mischief blossomed in the Detective's dark eyes.
"Maura Isles, I challenge you to a snowball fight and hereby declare that the winner is entitled to determining this evening's television viewing schedule." Jane said grandly, grinning from ear to ear. Maura's face clouded over and the Detective instinctively reached out a hand to squeeze her friend's arm, concern pulling the corners of her mouth downwards.
"Hey, what's up?" Jane enquired softly. Maura glanced out the window and then back up at Jane.
"I've never participated in a snowball fight Jane," The Doctor said very seriously. Jane's heart melted (Although Maura would chastise her for using such a scientifically incorrect description) at the sight of the worried expression etched on the blonde's face.
"Well..." Jane drawled, "There's a first time for everything my dear." This brought both of their smiles back with a vengeance.
"You're on Detective."