Title: You've Got Time

Author: RebelByrdie

Fandom: Cross-Over of: Orange is the New Black, Once Upon a Time, Rizzoli and Isles, Lost Girl and House with special guest appearances by Law and Order SVU and Warehouse 13.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.

Time Lines: OITNB: This takes place somewhere between episodes 7 and 9. OUAT: Canon up to Manhattan and then it goes way off the rails. Rizzoli and Isles: Current? I'm not caught up on that show right now. House: Post Series.

Pairings: Alex/Piper (with mentions of Larry), Bo/Lauren (with mentions of Dyson), SwanQueen, Jane/Maura, Thirteen/Cameron

Rating: Currently T but I assume this thing will go M before it's all said and done.

Spoilers: EVERYTHING. Just assume everything is spoiled.

Beta: Unfortunately, no. All errors are mine.

Author's Note: This is marynesq's fault. I was trying to finish my updates on my other stories and then someone had to post ridiculously awesome art. This started on Tumblr and has wandered over here now. Multiple POVs separated by line breaks.

Cover Art by Marynesq. This is the art that started this descent into crossover madness.

Summary: Emma Swan, Remey Hadley, Bo Dennis, Lauren Lewis and Maura Isles are the newest inmates at Litchfield Federal Prison. This is the story of their lives, crimes and how they survive in the fishbowl of prison.

*Part I*

The best part of her work assignment, Lorna Morello had long ago decided, was that she got first eyes on every newbie that was assigned to their little slice of paradise. This van-full of newbies seemed especially interesting. It wasn't every day that so many pretty ladies were shipped into Litchfield. Two brunettes, two blondes and girl that walked the line between blonde and redhead. What was that called again? Strawberry blonde. She'd had a cousin who'd tried to go strawberry blonde but had ended up looking like an extra for a Vanilla Ice music video. Which was why she stuck to her au-natural (well Sophia occasionally did a touch up on her roots) color of black.

She eye-balled them in her rear view as she drove. One of the blondes, she had introduced herself as Lewis without being prompted to give only her last name, was keeping an eye on the busty brunette, Dennis. They had, what Nicki would call, Sapphic vibes all over them. The other brunette, Thirteen (damndest last name she'd ever heard of) was staring at one of the other blondes, Swan. Even more Sapphic vibes. Sweet Jesus had she just picked up a whole van full of lesboes? The only one who wasn't eyeing the other women was the redhead, Maura Isles (the only person to give her entire name, and obviously a first timer). All Morello knew was that things were about to get interesting. Chapman and Vause were about to be old news. Also Big Boo would probably lose her lesbian-loving mind when she laid eyes on the newest arrivals. So would Nicki, and though they were not sleeping together anymore the idea of Nicki getting up close and personal with one of these new and very attractive women made her just a little bit jealous.

She pulled up to the building and grinned, "Home Sweet Home, Ladies." None of the new arrivals said a word as they filed out. Sheesh, all those pretty ladies and not one sense of humor.


When she got out the first thing Emma Swan was going to do was hunt down Detective Olivia Benson and punch her in the chops. For real this time, no holding back. Then she was going to find Rumple-fucking-stiltskin and his bastard of a son and nail their balls to the closest convenient wall. Custodial interference, endangering a minor, attempted murder, resisting arrest and assaulting an officer? What a joke! Even Regina had argued that she refused to press charges and that everything had been a misunderstanding. Regina I Will Destroy You Mills had left Storybrooke, come to New York City and defended her. She had almost ended up in a cell herself when she had gone nose-to-nose with the blonde prosecutor attached to the case. Neal had, unsurprisingly, run and left her holding the bag for what had been partly his screw-up. Again. At least her debt to Gold was paid in full, hooray. Slimy wheeling and dealing bastard. She hoped he and his son were happy together. Happily fucking ever after.

The worst part of it all, besides going to jail again, was that Henry had seen it all. He'd had to watch his father and grandfather abandon them. He'd had to watch her be arrested and perp-walked away. He'd had to sit there and answer the detectives' questions over and over again. He'd looked so small surrounded by cops, and had sounded so silly when he'd tried to explain that she was a hero and not the bad guy.

She had never been so happy to see Regina in her life. Neither, Emma suspected, had Henry. The two most important people in her life (how had that happened?) had watched her be taken away to prison. Not jail, federal prison. She remembered their last night together. How sad Henry had been, how he had clung to her like the toddler that she hadn't been around to see him as. Mostly, though, she remembered the way Regina had fallen into her arms, crying, after Henry had finally drifted off to sleep. She remembered salty kisses and whispered apologies. She remembered thinking that her son's other mother had never looked as beautiful as she had that last night in their penthouse suite (Storybrooke's tax dollars hard at work) with combination of moonlight and skyscraper glare in her hair. They had made love that night, their very first time, and had stayed awake to watch the sun rise over the Big Apple together. She would have made a joke about Regina and apples but her throat had been painfully dry so she had pulled the woman closer and held her tighter instead.

That night, Emma mused, had been magical. She knew it was impossible because they hadn't been in Storybrooke, but she had felt magic crackling in their kisses and tingling in their touches. She had felt her and Regina's heartbeats sync and beat as one. She knew, laying there wrapped in hotel sheets with their son only one room away, that Regina was her True Love.

Now she was in prison and all she had to look forward to was fucking visitor's day.

Some Fairytale.


They were all new and had all been assigned the same temporary cell. It was gray, cramped and smelled like old socks. All in all Thirteen (it was easier to be Thirteen than it was to be Remey) had seen worse, but not lately and not by much. Oh how far she had fallen. House would laugh at her, if he wasn't dead as a doornail. Still, though, she could have come out much worse. The women she was currently sharing quarters with were all insanely hot. Seriously, Dennis looked like some kind of pin-up girl and her girl (because if they weren't fucking she would officially turn in her queer card right then and there) was a work of art. Looking good in retina-scaring-orange was hard, but Lewis pulled it off well.

"Statistically speaking prison sheets have twenty-percent more bacteria on them due to the fact that the prison washing system does not utilize hot water rinses. Therefore the detergent doesn't clean as well, meaning that bacteria remains rooted in the cloth. That could lead to increased chances of mononucleosis, meningitis and a wide variety of other infections including Chromobacterium violaceum."

Thirteen chuckled at Isles. She had known the name was familiar. Maura Isles was the best Medical Examiner on the East Coast. She had read some of her work and had been impressed, and since she had worked with House that was saying something. So how the hell had Boston's Golden Girl ended up in a Federal Pen in New York?

"So you're that Maura Isles, huh."

The strawberry blonde genius turned on a dime. "What do you mean?" Her eyes were suddenly wary. She had probably been told enough prison horror stories to make her expect an attack at any moment.

"I read some of your work." Thirteen sighed, she had wanted to keep her credentials on the down-low, but Isles was going to need all the help she could get and despite not knowing her, Thirteen couldn't leave her to twist in the wind by herself. Damn conscience. She held out a hand, "Doctor Remey Hadley, formerly of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital Diagnostic Team."

"You worked with Gregory House?"

Both she and Isles turned to see Lewis with her mouth hanging open. "I mean I heard the man was a genius but hell to work with."

Now way. No freaking way.

The honey blonde woman held out her hand, "Doctor Lauren Lewis."

Now it was Isles' turn to be impressed, "Really? Your work on free radicals was mind-blowing."


Bo fell face-first on her half-made bunk. Three ridiculously sexy doctors making with the nerd talk. As if her libido and more importantly her hunger, hadn't already been in overdrive from being confined horny women for weeks already, now she had this to deal with. She was still confused about how everything had happened in the first place. She was in a succubus in a human prison. Where the Ash-hole been when this colossal clusterfuck had taken place? If it wasn't bad enough that she had been caught, tried and sentenced, Lauren had gone down too. No Light Fae shenanigans, no last minute rescues, no daring escapes. Just do your time quietly, keep your head down and be a good little girl. Bastards.

She looked up to the only other woman in the closet-sized room who was not talking about sciency stuff. "Don't tell me, you're a doctor too." The woman, Swan, shook her head, "I failed High School Biology." The woman smirked, "Twice. I'm a-"She paused for a moment and Bo wondered if she was about to lie, "I mean I was a-uh private detective."

Huh either it was the biggest coincidence in the world or something was rotten in Denmark, or Litchfield, whatever.

"Small world. I'm Bo, I was a private detective too."

The blonde ran her hand through her hair, "How did we end up with three super geniuses?"

It was in that moment that Bo felt a sort of kinship with Swan. Like they were two plain Jane girls lost in a world way bigger than they had ever imagined. Except that prison was a tiny-assed fishbowl world. They were also the smallest brains in the room, which if Lauren was anything to go by, wasn't so much a bad thing but it was a little humbling. The other three women were discussing things that Bo couldn't follow with a map or understand with a dictionary, and Swan looked equally as confused.

"Wanna talk about monster trucks and beer?"

Bo's brows raised and she felt a smile cross her face, "Oh my God, yes."


Piper watched the new inmates enter the cafeteria and sized them up as best she could. She was still new at all this. Nicki said she'd figure it all out in time, but for Piper it was like a mystery.

"Gay."

Alex, of course, had no problem fitting in.

"You say that about every girl, Vause."

Alex pushed her glasses, brand new and not held together by tape, to the bridge of her nose. The movement was so achingly familiar that something in Piper's chest tightened almost painfully.

"Look I'm just saying that Swan walks, talks and" She paused to watch the other woman sit down and dive into the plate of Red's finest prison cuisine like a starving woman, "eats like a lesbian."

Morello and Nicki both chuckled at that.

"But Isles is definitely strait." Piper held up a finger, "I talked to her in the rec room. She's a doctor and sort of a friend of a friend of an old classmate. She's very old money, blue blood, and probably has been dating some Kennedy cousin since the time she was fifteen."

"Yeah we used to call her Maura the Bore-A back in the day."

Nicki rarely talked about her past and Piper wondered exactly what the woman thought of someone who had known her before being incarcerated with them.

Nicki grinned and pushed a hand through her wild blonde hair, "But I'm tellin' ya under all that fancy book learning she' a frilly femme just looking for tall dark and butchy to show her all the right moves."

She didn't seem to mind at all, apparently. Piper did not appreciate the way Nicki's eyes darted to Alex at that. Besides, Alex wasn't butch and she definitely didn't need a spoiled blonde baby dyke interfering with her li- had she just described herself? She dropped her forehead to her palm. Ugh.

"It's Dennis, though, that's got everybody talking." Nicki grinned lasciviously, "She oozes sex appeal. I mean I never thought I'd look at a prison jumpsuit and go 'God damn you look amazing in that' but I did. I mean even Red thinks she's hot and Red's the straitest person I know. Like, seriously."

"Too bad for Red she's taken."

Nicki dropped her spoon, "Already!"

Piper almost giggled, it looked like someone had told Nicki that Christmas was canceled, taco night was abolished and kicked her puppy all at the same time.

"Her and Lewis are an item. Big time."

Dinner was quickly coming to a close, but Piper couldn't help but watch the new arrivals and wonder how well they were adjusting. Probably better than she had. Allot better.


"An inmate from Litchfield Federal Prison is trying to contact you. Do you wish to accept the call?"

Jane Rizzoli all but screamed "Yes!" into her cellphone.

"Maura?"

"Hello Jane."

The larger-than-life ME, and her best friend (maybe more? It was complicated.) sounded very small over the phone. She was over four hours away but it seemed like her Maura was trapped in another world. They had moved her to New York for her own safety. Too many Massachusetts inmates had recognized the well-known woman. She had helped put far too many women in jail to survive in it. She was so far away, though, and Jane couldn't be there with her. Couldn't hold her close to comfort her, couldn't smell her sweet shampoo or tell her it was going to be alright. The other woman wasn't beside her to calm her down or rub her scars when they ached at night.

"How's Bass?" Maura's tinny voice asked quietly, "And Joe Friday? And-and how are you, Jane?"

She was sitting at her desk like any other day, perfectly fine and healthy, not imprisoned. Leave it to Maura to be in prison and still worry about her damn tortoise.

"Everyone is fine, Maur. We're trying to get you out of there. Every single day. We're going to bring you home soon."

She could all but see the other woman in her mind's eye. She had been in enough prisons to know what they looked like. She didn't want to imagine Maura like that. In an orange jumpsuit, scared and alone.

"I miss you, Jane."

Oh God, she missed her too. Jane missed Maura so much that it was actually painful. There was a solid, ice cold, unmoving lump where her heart should be.

"I'll see you on Saturday, Maura. Ma wants you to put her on the list too so she can come see you next week. She's worried about you. So are Frankie and Tommy and Barry and Korsack. We are all pulling for you."

Me most of all, Jane silently added.

"And Tommy Jr?"

Maura's voice was wobbling a little now.

"Missing his favorite aunt."

There was so much to say, so much Jane wished she could go back and change. So many almost that she would go back and finish.

"I have to go, Jane."

Tears prickled in her eyes, "Stay safe, Maura. Remember what Tommy told you."

Hearing her baby brother tell Maura about prison had been heartbreaking. She'd had to send her Ma out of the room because Angela had started to sob.

"I will. See you Saturday."

The phone clicked and the call was over with Jane's 'I love you' still on her tongue, unspoken once more.


The only places that they could have sex were the chapel and a storage closet. With Bo being a succubus that was a bit of a problem. Bo needed sex the same way most organisms needed water or air. Lauren wasn't sure what she could do. Getting Trick to send doses of Bo's serum disguised as special-order insulin had worked to an extent but the serum only curbed Bo's needs, it didn't eliminate them. Not to mention that they were surrounded by sex starved women. It was practically a sexual buffet and everyone was hypnotized by Bo. Lauren couldn't blame them, Bo was an amazing specimen. Perfect, beautiful, sexy beyond all meanings of the word. Lauren loved Bo completely, with everything that she was. She was not, however, a fool. She knew Bo couldn't rely on only her for her feeds. She would have to sleep with other women to fulfill her physical needs. That knowledge was cold, clinical and absolute, but it still hurt. So she tried to think of other things. Despite her discussion with Mr. Healy about her qualifications as a Doctor, she had been assigned to the Kitchen. How did that make any sense? At least the Ash had given her duties that meant something. She was a doctor, not a short order cook. Of course, Maura Isles and Thirteen (who was she to argue if that was what the woman wanted to be called?) were also trained physicians but they had been assigned to Laundry and the Electric Shop respectively.

Emma Swan, Bo's new best friend, was also assigned to Electric. Bo had been assigned to the Library. What she wouldn't do to trade places with Bo. She enjoyed cooking, baking mostly, but working in the Prison Kitchen under Red was an entirely different kettle of fish. The Russian woman, definitely not related to Kenzie, was short tempered, gruff and very proud. Lauren had been like her, imprisoned and wrapped up in her work, proud of what she had done despite the fact that she was a slave. Then Bo had come into her world and had forever changed it.

"Lewis!"

She jerked her head up and almost dropped her knife on the floor.

"You're wasting good potato." She glanced back down and was embarrassed to see that she was cutting into the potatoes flesh instead of just peeling the skin.

"Sorry, Red."

The woman blew out a sigh, "I ask for a chef and they send me a doctor." She walked away disgusted and Lauren felt like crying but swallowed her tears and shame back and forced her emotions down deep inside of her. She had been a ward of the Ash. She had suffered days of starvation and beatings in actual dungeons. She could handle prison.

She hoped.


Henry looked around and wondered who everyone else was. They were visiting their friends and family too. His mother sat beside him, rigid and unmoving, with her brown eyes locked on the wall. She looked scared, or maybe angry. Sometimes it was hard to tell. He did know that she really missed Emma. It was funny how they had started to get along while they had been in New York. His mom and Emma had been like a team. They had been the losing team, but he hadn't given up hope yet. Something would happen. Emma was good and good always won out in the end.

He turned to look around. There was a girl, she reminded him of Ruby kind of. Only she had black hair and really high boots. Her hair was black with red streaks in it. She sat beside a man with a beard and a sour look on his face. His legs twitched nervously, which actually kind of reminded him of Ruby too, but he couldn't figure out why. He looked away and saw another woman. She looked angry, really angry. Her dark hair was lose around her shoudlers and she was wearing a leather jacket. She stood like Emma but her face looked like the Evil Queen. He didn't want to mess with her.

Waiting took forever.

"Swan."

His mother jumped in her chair and Henry stood up.

They read a really long list of rules and his mom had to hand over paperwork, but it was so worth it when they saw Emma sitting at a little table waiting on them.

"Mom!"

He ran across the room and only stopped when his arms were around Emma's waist.

"That's enough."

One of the guards, a tall man with an ugly mustache, grumbled at them. He let go and before he had even stepped back twice his Mom hugged Emma. Like really hugged her.

"Are you okay?"

It was the same thing she had said to him when Emma had brought him back from Boston. She'd had tears in her eyes then too. Suddenly, Henry felt very uncomfortable. He wasn't sure what was going on, and he wasn't sure he liked it.

They all sat down. "I'm fine. I'm okay, I promise." Emma smiled, "I'm just so glad you're here. Was the drive bad?"

It had taken, Henry wanted to grumble, forever. Eight hours. He had never been thankful for the video game his Mom had bought him before now. He only shrugged, though.

"It was fine, Dear. We're just happy to see that you're okay."

His mom reached for his other mom's hands and as soon as their fingers touched the guard glared at them and said that visitors weren't allowed to touch inmates during the visit.

He hated that. This was his family, his moms, they weren't visitors and inmates.

"Grandpa and Grandma really miss you. Did you get their letter? Did you get my letter?"

Emma smiled a little, "I did, Kid. They were awesome."

"And the money" His mom asked, "did it go through to your account correctly?"

Emma only shrugged, "Not yet, there's some kind of waiting period, but I'll be fine for a little while."

They kept talking, but sometimes his moms would get lost in their own conversation and he looked around at the other people.


Maura had promised herself that she would not cry, and she hadn't. Not during her visit with Jane, but afterwards she had fallen to pieces. She had only barely made it back to her assigned cube. Her roommate, Daya, hadn't said anything when she started to cry. Maura was grateful for that. The last person to see her cry had been Jane. Daya wasn't Jane.

Jane.

She had drove all this way for such a small amount of time. She had driven from Boston just to check on her. To make sure she was alright, to reassure her that people still cared about her. That she was not forgotten, that she was loved.

Not in the way that she loved Jane, of course. No, Maura knew better than to confuse Jane's loyalty and friendship for something more. Jane would never look at her that way. No matter how much she wanted the tough, gruff, beautiful detective, Jane was forever out of her reach. It was, Maura told herself, hormones. Her bunkmate was pregnant and her raised hormones were causing a sympathetic reaction in her own endocrine system. It was very much the same way that women's menstrual cycles would sync up when they spent a significant amount of time together. By the time she left Litchfield she and Jane would no longer be on the same cycle and for some reason that made her cry all the harder.

She had looked so angry, but so gorgeous, in the visitation room. Her hair had been down over her shoulders and her eyes had flashed. When they had hugged, once at the beginning and once at the end of their visit, Maura had likened it to Heaven. If such a place existed, despite Angela's many impassioned arguments she had yet to see proof of such a place and therefore could not believe it existed. Still, though, if it did exist it would feel and smell like Jane Rizzoli's embrace.


"How are you holding up here in the Big House?"

Kenzie, her best friend in the world, smiled at her like it was all one big vodka-soaked joke.

"It's strange, that's for sure."

Kenzie bit her lip, "But at least Hot Pants is in here with you. You guys can look out for each other just like last time."

Beside Kenzie Dyson let out a bark of laughter. "This is completely different than last time."

Bo sighed. Last time she'd been in a Fae prison and it hadn't really been for real. It had been for a mission. This was real. This was the real, mundane, human prison world. It had been less than a week and she was already climbing the walls. She could not last in here without either losing her mind or starting an orgy and one would land her in Pysch and the other in Maximum Security. Neither sounded particularly fun.

"So any word yet? From the Ash? Hell, from the Morrigan? I don't give a damn who does it, just get me out of here."

Her words were hisses, but she was desperate. Desperate for sex, desperate to feed, desperate to get Lauren away from the den of cut-throats and thieves they had landed in.

Both Kenzie and Dyson looked away from her.

"Nothing has changed yet."

The yet was sounding more and more hopeless.

She was going to sucu-starve in this American hell hole.


Thirteen stared up at the ceiling and wondered exactly what sort of fucked up karma she had sown to get to be roommates with Jesus Christ's long lost twin sister. Also why did Jesus's biggest fan obviously have an addiction to methamphetamines? The smell, her lank hair, the pockmarked skin, oh and the teeth that would send any dentist running for the damn hills: it all pointed to meth and lots of it. She always fell in with addicts. At least House had been rational (most days).

Not that she was judging. She had tried meth a time or two. It was a cheap, fast, crazy high, but there was something about pumping cleaning chemicals into her body that had killed the buzz. At least heroin was natural, hell she had even started hearing rumors about organic heroin, for the health conscious junkie. She would have to ask Vause, she had heard the woman had been a transporter for one of the major cartels. Then again, that could be total bullshit. Who knew?

"Is it true you're a doctor?"

She didn't bother to look away from the ceiling.

"I used to be."

She doubted she would be again, the AMA frowned upon ex-cons doing checkups.

"Did you perform abortions?"

No. She had never done that. Not that she was against it, she was pro-choice all the way. Still, though, her expertise had been in internal medicine and diagnostics, not obstetrics and gynecology. Besides she had worked at Princeton-Plainsboro, not some street clinic in Bumfuck. She wondered if the hillbilly Jesus freak had even heard of the hospital she had spent so many hours in. Probably not. She probably couldn't even locate New Jersey on a map.

"Yes."

Maybe if the other woman thought she was some heretic she would take her Bible-thumping elsewhere and let Thirteen get some peace and quiet.

"Killing innocent little babies! You're going to Hell."

Considering the woman's age, drug use and immediate focus on the topic, Thirteen would hazard to guess that she'd had at least one abortion, maybe more. Then again, maybe she was just cynical. It was hard to tell where her House-induced cynicism ended and where her true medical instincts began these days.

"Probably."

If her bisexuality, lack of general ethics and shitty approach to relationships and people in general hadn't got her there already, performing abortions would seal the deal.

"You're probably just like the rest of them: heretics, hussies and homosexuals!"

This time Thirteen did turn her head, "Yes to all three."

"I can save you. I can help you find Jesus and let him into your heart."

She could almost hear House laughing. More importantly she could hear Allison's laughter echoing in her head. Like she needed another reminder of the woman she had loved and lost in secret. Having her look-a-like walking around was bad enough, but now her brain was betraying her too. Body and brain united against her, how fun.

"I had no idea he was lost."

The stick-thin woman blinked, like she hadn't understood, "What?"

She sat up now, "Jesus. I didn't know he was lost."

Dogget, or Pennsatucky as some of the others called her, froze in place. Her huge junkie eyes widened further and bugged out of her head. "You whore."

She stomped away, leaving Thirteen by herself. She knew, down in her bones, that she had not heard the end of this. Frankly, though, Thirteen could not bring herself to care.

Saturday was for visitors and no one had come to see her. Of course since no one knew she was in prison, or where she was at all really, she was not surprised. She hated that she wanted House to show up in all of his sarcastic glory to bail her out of this nightmare with some ridiculous scheme. She hated that she wanted Foreman to show up and give her a small, sad smile and tell her it was going to be all right. She mostly hated, though, that she wished Allison Cameron had shown up to hug her and tell her that she was an idiot (House had rubbed off on all of their vocabularies) but she was her idiot and she loved her.

*End Part I*