This is an idea I've had in my head for years and, try as I might, I can't seem to get it to go away. So here it is.
The rhythmic pounding of boots on concrete coursed through her body as she drew her service weapon, her back resting against the side of the warehouse. The door was a few yards away, and her heart pounded in her chest, so hard she could barely take a breath. She clicked off the safety and rested her forefinger along the barrel, arm tense by her side as she waited for her next instructions.
The officers around her were clad in full body armour and helmets, and each held an assault rifle. She looked down at her slacks and shirt, then at her Glock, and frowned.
Something was not right.
The signal. A flash and a loud noise followed by smoke erupting from the door. She pressed forward, eyes stinging, determined to get the job done.
Suddenly, a ringing noise. Then, a searing pain behind her right eye.
Someone had turned out all the lights.
Jane Rizzoli sat bolt upright in bed and cried out in pain. She sucked in a ragged breath, her t-shirt drenched in sweat. Her hands flew automatically to her head, pressing gently to relieve some of the pressure.
She let out her breath.
With the pad of her forefinger, she felt through her hair, along the full length of the scar that ran from the right side of her forehead, toward her ear, curling back on itself.
Eventually, she opened her eyes. Slowly, carefully. Thankfully, the day had barely begun, and the gloom allowed her to get used to being awake at her own pace. She glanced over at her alarm clock and grimaced. 6:07. She knew she'd get no more sleep; she never did on nights like this.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and rubbed her eyes, before attempting to wrangle her hair into a hair tie, pulling her ponytail tight.
Her ears pricked. The telltale crunch of tyres rolling over gravel. She grabbed yesterday's jeans from the floor and shoved her legs through the holes, retrieved her red plaid shirt from the bedpost, and slid her M1911 from underneath her pillow.
She padded softly to the front door, gun held firmly at her side. She peered out of the glass.
"Well, shit," she muttered under her breath.
The dark Prius was in the same pristine condition it had been the last time she'd seen it, four years ago. The morning sun glinted off the windscreen, leaving the driver obscured, but Jane didn't need to see to know who was about to walk up to her cabin.
The door opened, and a stilettoed foot appeared. Jane gulped. She stuffed the gun in the back waistband of her jeans and opened the door slowly. She leant against the doorframe and watched her visitor as she approached.
The tight fitting coat left nothing to the imagination but, then again, Jane didn't need to imagine. She had seen it all before.
She shook her head, wincing at the flash of pain.
That was a long time ago.
"Hello, Jane."
"Maura. It's been a minute."
Maura nodded.
"Can I come inside?"
Jane turned sideways and gestured into her home, allowing Maura to scoot past, holding her handbag in front of her like a shield. The fragrance of her perfume was intoxicating.
Get ahold of yourself, Rizzoli. It's too early for this shit.
Once Jane closed the door, she turned and faced Maura, who looked as if she was taking in her surroundings. Her head darted from side to side. Jane wasn't accustomed to having visitors, and there was a time she'd have been embarrassed for Maura to see her humble abode, but that time had passed.
Her home was small, she knew that. Standing in the middle of the living room, you could see every other room in the house, but it was hers. She had built it herself, and it was hers.
Embers from last night's fire glowed in the hearth, and Maura took a moment to stretch out her arms towards it. She rubbed her hands together and flexed her fingers.
Jane felt herself getting warm.
"You want a coffee? Be warned, I only have instant."
"Coffee would be lovely, thank you Jane."
There had always been something about the way Maura had said Jane's name that had done things to her. She shivered, and moved into the kitchen to prepare their drinks.
In Jane's absence, Maura took the time to snoop, not that she would've called it that. The walls were almost entirely bare, except for three framed photos.
The first showed Jane, Frost and Korsak at the precinct's charity baseball game. They were all wearing baseball gear and Jane, in the middle, had thrown her arms around the two men either side of her. Maura's eyes grew a little wet, remembering Frost's lovely smile.
She swallowed back tears and moved on to the next photograph. The Rizzoli family stood proudly in Maura's kitchen, little TJ in Angela's arms and Tommy, Frankie and Jane leaning against her.
The third made Maura's heart beat a little faster. Her and Jane had taken a picnic to Boston Common with Frankie and Nina just as the fall was beginning to creep in, and the Rizzoli siblings had decided to pick up some cream pies. Jane had seen fit to scoop out the cream from hers and wiped it straight across Maura's face. Maura could practically hear Jane cackling as she smiled at the photo, tempted to reach out and touch it. Her own expression showed a mixture of shock and exasperation, but the delight was visible in the crinkle of her eyes. It had been one of the happiest days of her life.
Jane cleared her throat and set two steaming mugs of coffee down on the table. For a moment, they looked at each other, years and years and only a few feet between them. Jane shoved her hands in her pockets, and Maura could really see how thin she'd gotten. Her cheekbones stuck out a little more than the last time they'd been together, and her clothes hung from her.
"Jane…"
"Just tell me, Maura. Who died?"
Maura felt herself flush and took a moment to breathe.
"You didn't drive all the way to Maine to have coffee with me. Is it Ma?" Her voice quivered.
"Jane, I think you should sit down."
Jane didn't move.
"Maura, is it Ma?" The threat of tears made itself evident in the increased hoarseness of Jane's voice.
"Last night, uh, there was an incident at Korsak's home. An intruder broke in and, while we're not sure exactly what happened yet, we believe that Vince was alerted to the intrusion, so he went to investigate, and he was shot and killed. Korsak died, Jane. He's gone. I'm so, so, very sorry."
For a moment, Jane couldn't move. She stood, frozen, the news washing over her in icy waves. Maura moved toward her, slowly, carefully, until she was standing directly in front of Jane's shivering body.
"This doesn't make any sense," she rasped, her bottom lip trembling. "I spoke to him yesterday, he sent me a case file, I…"
"I know, it's all come as something of a shock."
Jane noticed the tears in Maura's eyes for the first time. She took a step forward, wanting so much to wrap her arms around the woman before her, but stopped before she could get there.
"He kept a gun by his bed, why didn't he shoot whoever it was?"
"It would've been dark and disorientating," Maura said softly.
"He's a cop, Maur', we don't just switch off."
Maura considered for a second.
"You did."
"You know that's not the same. I didn't have a choice."
"I didn't come here to argue with you, Jane," Maura sighed.
"God, I know. I'm sorry. You must be exhausted, and I know how much Korsak meant to you. Why don't you have a sit down and we'll drink our coffee and just, be together for a while."
Maura nodded and sat down on the couch gently.
"Can I get you a blanket? It can get pretty cold up here in the winter. I don't want you to get ill."
"I'm fine, thank you. It's actually a common misconception that being exposed to low temperatures or cold weather can make you ill."
Jane couldn't help smiling. She grabbed her mug and gulped down a mouthful of coffee. She moved toward the fireplace and rubbed the back of her neck.
"God I can't believe he's gone. This is all wrong. I can't…" She bowed her head and just about managed to place her mug on the mantelpiece before her entire body was wracked with sobs. She sucked in a panicked breath, her shoulders heaving. Maura leapt up from her spot on the couch and was across the room and by Jane's side in two strides. She wrapped her arms around Jane's chest without hesitation, and squeezed hard.
"You're okay. It's alright. We're going to be okay. I'm here, Jane. You're not alone in this."
She rested her cheek against Jane's back, taking in her woody scent and breathing slowly in an attempt to regulate Jane's breath. Eventually, when Jane's sobs had subsided into soft hiccups, Maura led her back to the couch, rubbing her back in soft circles with her thumb.
"I'm sorry, Maur'. I didn't mean to break down." She held her head in her hands.
"You have nothing to apologise for. I reacted in much the same way."
"Have you seen him?"
"I went to his house as soon as it was called in, and I stayed with him all the way to the hospital, then back to the station."
Jane felt admiration bloom in her chest at just how strong Maura was. She rested her hand on Maura's and gripped it gently.
"I hate to think of him lying in the cold all alone."
"Do you want to see him?"
Jane thought for a moment. It had been four years since she had been in Boston, and she'd left because she couldn't bear to be there anymore, after everything that had happened.
"I have to go back, I have to do it for Korsak. He'd do it for me. He did do it for me. He sat by my hospital bed for weeks, just like I know you did." She smiled, and Maura smiled back. Jane could sense the shadow of old feelings in Maura's eyes. She patted Maura's hand and stood up slowly.
"Let me just pack a bag, and we can go."
Let me know what you think. More to come soon.