I'm back...I missed you all. NEW STORY! Genre?...maybe we go with...sci-fi-ish? It's 2 concepts for 2 different stories that i had been writing slowly (&badly) at the same time. yeah...like that was ever going to work. then, literally yesterday, I decided to merge them into just 1 story. O.O It is genius. I think. I'm almost semi sure it'll be decent...& 100% interesting!

I will do a decent summary when I can sum it up ;)

DISCLAIMER:- I do not own Rizzoli and Isles. I do not own the characters. I write for fun only utilising the awesomeness the actors and writers gave us to build on in our own imagination.

CHAPTER 1

The pen falls out of her hand again and thuds lightly on the conference room table. Again. Its happened twice now since she sat down. She glances around the room to see if anyone notices. Only Maura has. The rest of the BPD taskforce is busy reading the reports for the latest case. Frankie and Frost are making notes as they listen to Korsak speak. She is grateful they are distracted.
She looks down at her left hand. Nothing out of the ordinary. She stretches her palm and watches the scar on the back tighten against the skin around it. An old wound that carries more emotional pain than anything physical. Perhaps until now.
It hasn't hurt for sometime. But today it tingles painfully and she can't grip her pen properly.
Oddly the wound was through both palms but only the left one is causing her annoyance.
She looks up to give Maura a weak smile, it's the only way she knows the concerned observation of herself by her best friend will stop. It works and Maura looks back down at the file making notes down the side of the page.
Maybe she is just tired. Maybe this 7:30 am meeting is just to early. Maybe it's the case. Maybe it's that she didn't get to finish her coffee before they arrived.
Korsak is commenting but Jane can't focus. The tingling is getting sharper and more consistent.
She clenches her hand tightly a few times trying to help the blood flow which in the past seemed to help with stiffness.
This sensation is new however. It's not like it has been for the past 8 years. It doesn't ache deeply especially on cold days, an ache that could bring her to tears. It was more like a sharp tingling. Like pins and needles. Like the burning feeling of touching ice.
She tries to ignore it hoping it will go away. Focusing on the report in front of her.
Twenty year old female victim, fatal gunshot wound to her chest, possibly an innocent victim, a casualty of a robbery, or there is a slight chance she was potentially involved in the robbery itself.
There had been several robberies in the area in the past few months. Detectives believed all the robberies were carried out by the same group. They had only become involved when robbery developed into homicide. So it was now a multi-department taskforce that would solve the case. The heists themselves were growing in size and difficulty, Maura deduced that the criminals were becoming more confidant. Potential target sites were discussed at length. Where they might strike next, when. Usually Jane was vocal about her thoughts but right now she wanted to be invisible.
One moment she was openly teasing Maura who, acting out of character and having no evidence, seemed sure that the young female victim could not have been involved in the robberies. Jane had even been teasing Maura about the similarities between herself and the victim, speculating that was the cause of Maura's bias. Same university, same hairdo, same eye color...the next minute her hand had suddenly spasmed and tingled like it was doing now. The clattering pen was the end of her teasing and the beginning of her self-concern.
Trying to Ignore the sensation with the distraction of work only seemed to intensify the pain. And before Jane knew it she was clenching her jaw and letting out a low growl.
She looks around again quickly, nobody notices thankfully. She wonders if she should excuse herself.
Jane goes to pick up the pen, thats when she notices a white and bluish glow between her fingers. A little bit like lightning . She wiggles her fingers slightly and the colored like glow moves with her.
Suddenly the pain is sharp and shoots up her arm to her shoulder, and she slams her palm down on the desk in surprise.
Everyone looks at her, some surprised, some confused and a few are even amused.
"Sorry" She mumbles trying to avoid eye contact as she slips her hands under the table onto her lap. She wonders if anyone saw the lightning effect between her fingers.
They are still tingling and she bites her lip. A little embarrassed but a lot scared. She hopes it is just static or some non-dangerous electrical charge.
She can almost feel Mauras gaze boring into her skin. And when she can bear it no more she looks up. The eyes that meet hers are full of concern.
Maura mouths a question, 'Are you ok?'
Jane nods. She feels physically weak and worried but hides it.
She ignores the rest of the meeting sitting as still as possible gripping her hands together under the table. She hears Korsak excusing everyone to get back to work. She can hear the shuffling of people leaving. Her plan is to wait until they are gone and then try to figure out what happened. A plan ended when Maura's hand gently squeezes her shoulder.
"I'm ok." She lies instinctively without looking up or moving.
Maura sits down in the office chair beside her, "No. You aren't Jane. Are your hands bothering you."
Jane pulls an array of faces, frowns and scowls, before she shrugs defensively.
Maura fortunately takes no notice of the bizarre body language and takes Jane's hands and begins an old massage technique, one that Jane had, once upon a time, required on average twice a day just to help manage the pain.
The massage relaxed her then, but today she stiffens.
She can feel the tingling returning a little at a time. She wonders if slamming her palm on the desk again would stop it. She is tempted to try.
The sensation builds and builds until its too much to bear.
Her hand jolts involuntarily with pain and she clamps her hand closed over Maura's at the same time letting out a small gravely yelp.
"Jane" Maura says in that worried tone, "What is it?"
The pain and all sensations have eased again, it's like they are testing her breaking point. And again, for now, they are are gone as quickly as they came.
Jane looks up into those calming eyes that are filled with concern.
How can she explain what she felt, what she had seen. Maura would want to investigate. She didn't want that.
"It's nothing." Jane croaks out wishing she could tell the truth, "I'm sorry."
"It's not nothing, Jane."
Jane shakes her head, "I'm fine now. Whatever you did seems to have worked."
She looks at her hand in Maura's and notices she still has Maura's hand gripped so tight both her fingers and Maura's have turned white. She lets go quickly.
Maura doesn't let go, "Talk to me Jane. Please. Something is going on."
Jane shrugs, "I don't know Maura. I don't know what's going on. Just, I don't know...my hand...it's been...uh...strange lately."
Maura studies Jane's features until she is certain Jane is being completely truthful, "I think perhaps you need a specialist to look at it? It could be a pinched nerve or something quite serious that can be easily corrected."
"I'm fine." Jane says attempting a smile and tries to shake Maura's hands off her own.
Maura presses her lips together and looks at Jane with sympathy.
"Stop it." Jane groans, "Maura stop looking at me like i'm injured. I'm not a sick puppy. I am fine...really."
Maura raises one eyebrow and gently squeezes Jane's hand.
And her hand is suddenly like it's on fire, not just her hand, her arm, her shoulder, her chest. The entire left side of her body burns and aches and she is aware that she is definitely not 'fine'.
She is overwhelmed with a sensations over her entire body so intensely she can't speak. Her heart is racing. She is sweating. Shaking. Her lips quiver
"Maura...help..."
She can't finish the sentence because suddenly the pain shoots out in every direction and it's like being shot all over her body. She physically jolts as if she has been electrocuted. She grips Maura's hands tightly while everything in front of her blurs and vanishes.
"Jane?" Maura squeaks, her voice shrill and panicked, "What? What is it?"
"Jane?"
She can't respond. She tries but is unable to control her body.
"JANE! JANE!"
She tries to blink away the blurred images in front of her, to focus, to see, to control the pain, to feel.
And the pictures in front of her become completely clear again. The image of an elderly man in a black robe, except for the white strip of white under his collar, the exact outfit her catholic school principal wore. He is leaning towards her squinting at her as if he is annoyed.
Her mouth drops open in surprise. She blinks and looks around but Maura is gone. She is in an old dusty church backroom sitting on a hard wooden stool.
The man looks like he is about to poke Jane with his stick when Jane pushes it away from her body.
The man grunts obviously annoyed.
Jane shakes her head slowly trying to clear the delusion.
"Well...Jane?" He barks at her.
"Yeah?" Jane replies confused and looking around for an exit.
"Yes?" The man scolds her grammar.
Jane shakes her head, "No?"
He grunts at her as if she is being obstinate on purpose
"Are you going to tell your mother?"
"My mother? What am I telling Ma?"
"That you are going to purgatory?" He growls at her.
Jane can only raise her eyebrows, "I am?"
He looks at her blankly for a moment before the anger begins to darken his eyes and make his upper lip twitch.
"Quit playing games. Have you forgotten you came to me for help? Begged me for a way out...for answers? You are the one that has shamed your family name. I am just glad your father isn't around to see the disgrace you have become."
Jane isn't sure she can frown any harder, "My father?"
"It wouldn't surprise me if your troublemaking alone was they reason he left you."
She doesn't want to infuriate him further by asking more about her father, where she is or what she has done, so she just stares at him trying to look as timid or innocent as she can.
"The church could forgive you but you would have to dedicate your life to its service...that's the only solution I see."
Jane almost blurts out 'like hell' but decides that's probably not an answer that will help her right now. In this foreign place, in front of this scary ass...priest? Is that what he even is.
"Uh...huh..." She replies without committing herself to the suggestion.
"The baby will be raised in a home of a dedicated member of the church.
"Baby?" Jane questions under her breath.
"Only the people directly under myself will know of this. It will be kept a secret to protect you and your mother from shame. You will have to move into the church immediately before anyone suspects your sinful fornicating ways."
Jane raises both eyebrows.
The priest glares at her in contempt as her looks from her face to her stomach, "You are beginning to show."
Jane looks down at herself. She is wearing a loose wavy dress over black tights. She presses her hands on the sides of her belly and can feel the subtle firm bulge beneath the frumpy fabric. She looks back up at him her face beyond shock.
"Disgraceful." The priest spits as her turns his back to her.
Jane looks down again in disbelief. She wants to stand up and run away but her legs have become like jelly. She rotates her hands to on top and underside of the bulge and presses, just to check it is really a baby bulge poking out of her. Her taunt abs and firm flat stomach vanished. As she stares she notices something else, her hands look perfect, her scars are gone as if they never were. She brings her hands up to her face and rotates them to check both her palms. No scars at all.
"Your poor mother, she can never know." Jane hears the priest murmur into the room. "You had such potential.
"I'm...pregnant..." Jane voices out loud, "I...I have to go..."
The priest steps forward to stand between Jane and the only door in the room shaking his head.
"I have to go to the bathroom." Jane pleads, "It's urgent."
"Don't let anyone see you." The priest growls before stepping aside and letting her pass.
Jane bolts out of the room into the dimly lit hall. She can't begin to imagine where she is, if its daytime, or how to find the bathroom let alone get out.
She tries for the door on her right but its a room of books. The door on the left goes into a closet.
Her hand slips off the next doorknob which tells her she is sweating.
"Calm down" She scolds herself, "Stop panicking."
Using both hands the doorknob finally turns and it is the bathroom. She leans over the sink as her stomach lurches threatening to empty whatever contents she had consumed that day.
She breathes slowly and tries to focus, it helps.
She turns on the tap and splashes water in her face. It helps a lot.
"Focus. Think."
Looking up into the mirror she see's herself. She looks like Jane but her hair is shorter, wavier. A thin red headband pulling the mess off her face. The stomach barely noticeable when she is leaning forward like she is, but still she knows there is some mystery bump under her clothing. Her hands gripping the edge of the sink like she is would usually make the 1 inch scars on her hand as white as the basin itself, but they are not there. Again she holds her hands up and presses on the skin where they should be. She can feel the pressure. the skin is smooth. The nerve ending undamaged.
She looks back at her reflection and studies herself studying herself.
"I am Jane Rizzoli. I am a homicide detective. I can get through this. I will be ok."
She watches her lips mouth the words but she doesn't quite believe them. She has to get out of here. She has to find out what's going on...where she is.
She takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders leaning back.
Her pregnant belly shows in this position and she loses her composure for a moment.
"Where the hell are you Maura." She mumbles weakly.
"Stop looking so scared." She tells her reflection right before she bites her lip.
She takes another deep breath and turns towards the door.
Her brain says 'run'. Her feet decide their is no better plan.
A moment later she is stumbling out the heavy wooden door and is on the sidewalk.
Bright sunlight blinds her momentarily as she tries to get her bearings. Only she doesn't recognise the street. The buildings look unfamiliar. The people walking around don't look at her. She doesn't care where she goes as long as it is away from this place. She begins to jog up the road to the end and looks both left and right. It doesn't take anymore for her to be convinced.
She isn't in Boston anymore.

...TBC...

Ohhhhhh it's so good to be back...Thank you for reading.
Humbly yours,
JAM xx