Wednesday

They got lucky on the ink. It was only used by one of the newspapers in Boston, and the HR department had already called in a welfare check for a missing employee. It sounded like he'd been working a drug smuggling story and crossed the wrong gang. Jane and Frost attended his house and found it ransacked. They called the next of kin to come in to identify him, but the photos in the house made it almost a dead certainty that they'd found their victim's identity.

Jane went down to the crime lab to thank Susie for her work on the ink; she liked to stay on the move. Being in an office made her feel closed in. Made her feel trapped. She was full of restless energy - part of that was the caffeine, part of it was her nerves. If she wasn't heading down to the basement, she'd be heading down to the cafe for another coffee, and that was a unilaterally bad idea. She needed to focus, not give herself the jitters. She was already starting at any sudden sound; she didn't need to make it more obvious.

Doctor Isles was doing an autopsy, and Jane looked through the window. Jane saw her pick up a scalpel and she flinched, ready to look away. It didn't look as scary in her small, skilled hands. Jane watched her start the Y-incision, saw the scalpel bite into the soft flesh of the man's chest. Her hands itched with fear, but she was behind the glass, there was glass between her and the scalpel. Doctor Isles was cold and dispassionate as she sliced into the body with practiced ease. She glanced up once, and Jane ducked. When she peeked through the window again she saw the faintest trace of a smile on Doctor Isles' lips, the peach lipstick that would have matched the dress Jane had seen a glimpse of earlier that day making Jane think of spring.

"Detective Rizzoli," Susie said, sounding surprised as she walked down the hall. Jane turned towards her, away from the window. "What are you doing down here - that's not one of your bodies."

"Came down to tell you we got a solve from your ink analysis - good work on that report, we were able to tie him to a missing person. Family will come down later this week to identify him."

"Oh." Susie looked through the glass with Jane for a moment. "It's like watching an artist at an easel. She's the most graceful ME I've ever seen," Susie said.

"Yeah, same. Now if only she didn't hate me," Jane half-joked, her defences down a little around Susie since she'd already seen Jane vulnerable.

"I'm sure she doesn't hate you," Susie started. "Has a strong aversion to you, perhaps."

"She told you how we met?" Jane asked.

"You were working Vice," Susie said. "She never makes assumptions, you must be a hell of an actor."

"I was moved up from Vice in weeks," Jane said. "Said my talents were wasted there. I think the Johns just complained too much when I rough-armed them. Not used to a woman fighting back."

"I hear you're an excellent detective," Susie said.

"Not always," Jane said, rubbing at her hands ruefully. Doctor Isles looked up and gestured to Susie to come in.

"You coming?" Susie asked, paused at the door.

"Not today," Jane said, looking down at her hands. "Some day, though." Jane smiled at Susie, who gave her a sympathetic smile back.

Jane's appartment was cold and dark when she got home. She put a frozen meal in the microwave and started in on her hand exercises, fingers numb.

She'd been able to watch Doctor Isles cut into that body. She'd been able to watch her hold a scalpel to human flesh and slice into it. She'd been so precise and exacting, so focussed. Jane wasn't sure if Doctor Isles wished her any harm, but unlike the rest of the ME's, Jane was fairly certain Doctor Isles would rather use words than a scalpel to eviscerate her. And if Maura did turn on her suddenly, during an autopsy, at least the scalpel would be clean. She wouldn't reuse them without having them autoclaved. Jane thought about how it would feel, if Maura used a scalpel to punctuate a conversation, like some of the other ME's did. Jane knew she'd watch the blade, but a small portion of her focus would be on those peach lips, wondering if they tasted as good as they looked.

Jane shook her head as the microwave dinged, put down her bands and balls. if Maura attacked her, would she drug Jane first? Or would she push Jane against a wall, blade to her face? Jane gulped, wondering why it wasn't as intimidating as it was when she had the same intrusive thoughts about the other MEs. Popov was terrifying, like something out of a horror movie. She struggled to regain her reality after she saw him with a scalpel. But Maura would taunt her, like she knew Jane had been watching her mouth, thinking about her lips.

Jane's hands hurt too much for the cutlery she'd graduated to, so she dug out the big plastic spoon she could strap to her hand, feeling like a feral animal confined to a cage, wary of its warders.

Notes:

For those of you questioning why Maura is acting like this: they don't know each other. Maura is still an insulated, antisocial professional and incredibly lonely woman who was embarrassed in public by the precinct's golden girl.

They met once, canonically, in the cafe when Jane was in Vice, and in this arc, Maura travelled Massachusetts afterwards rather than being based in Boston. She came back sometime after Jane was caught by Hoyt the first time, while Jane was out on leave.