Jane sat on her couch with a beer in her hand and the television on.
She preferred to leave work at work, and for home to be home; but there was really nothing she could find on the television to distract her thoughts and, it did not help that she had to help unclog the toilet of her neighbour's just because, she's a plumber.
She slammed down an empty bottle and opened another. Today was not a good day.
She had driven in her van, weaving through the jam, honking at anyone who got in her way. It wouldn't be a problem if I wasn't a plumber. She had grumbled as she had gunned the engine when she could.
She had managed to return to the shop in one piece, a little distracted and a little disappointed. She might never see the woman again - the one who had given her the flutters - and that was what was really bothering her.
"I do a fine job, a great job. Those pipes would never burst!" She had muttered angrily to herself as she set her tool bag down on the counter, and had returned to taking stock - exactly what she was doing before the very much unneeded phone call came.
"Sis!"
"Shit Frankie. Don't sneak up on me," she had glared as she clutched onto the box of bolts she had been carrying.
"Sorry Janie, but you went on a house call?" Frankie had asked.
"You took too long at the dump," she had grinned, "I had to do it myself. Pop prided himself on being the best in town, and I couldn't turn a customer down, could I?"
"There's no need to poop on your own school Jane," Frankie laughed, "And you could have texted me the address. You haven't done house calls since…"
"Since your brother Tommy graduated from that dump, and I could retire that," she had gestured to her tool bag, "But I've still got mad skills, so it was no problem," she had winked, "And thanks for heading over to the dump for me. I spent too many years there, at that posy dump, and I'll have personally left all their faucets running if I had been there," she had jotted down the number of bolts left and proceeded to another box. Taking stock, was not her ideal task to do but, she would rather this than answering house calls, especially not like one to her previous school – that pretentious, bully-filled, snobbish - she had shook her head and sighed, and had carried on taking stock, it seemed at least more a mundane task than a plumber-orientated task.
"They might not have let you in anyway sis," Frankie had walked over to his counter, "They resized the door, Roly-poly Rizz-"
She had tossed a bolt Frankie's way.
"Watch it," she had stated without looking Frankie's way.
"Anyway, regarding the dump, your school, how much are we planning to charge them?" Frankie had asked as he helped carry more boxes of supplies over.
"The usual rate. You gave their plumbing system a look over right? Anything extra?" She had pulled out the billing pad.
"I found the basketball trophy you had won for them flushed?"
"Watch it." She had repeated. She's always up for a good tease and match of sarcasm but, she had been feeling miffed enough to begin with. "Watch it Frankie," she had placed a bolt in front of her on the counter to prove a point.
"Anything happened on the house call Janie?"
She had turned to look at her little brother. "What? Stupid questions aside, do you know where the little shit head Tommy went to this time?" She had tried not to come off too angry, but her brothers were her responsibility now, and between running the shop, and trying to work out her own escape - her career path - she would be immensely pleased if her youngest brother would stop disappearing on them.
"Tommy's just, sensitive and he's probably just running around with his friends for a while. He'll be back," Frankie had answered, "And I'm sorry sis...I should be helping out more, and -"
The phone had ring then; she had gratefully answered, was mildly disappointed that it wasn't whom she had instinctively hope for, and sent Frankie on another house call.
She had billed the bill for 16 Drury Lane, and had gotten back to counting out the supplies.
She liked her brothers, she loved her brothers, but she was really getting so tired of this plumbing shit - and she really meant shit. Her pop had brought her along when he worked and, she had thought then that she would have seen her fair share of all things to do with plumbers, was pleased to help out when she could but, she did not want to give up a detective career to be a plumber.
She downed another bottle.
She should be upset, she should be sad, she should be grilling herself on why she's not more worried about her family and her family business, than how much her heart is actually aching for the flutters she had experienced.
No drama Jane, no drama. She told herself as she opened another bottle.
Years she had spent, trying to get through school the best she can. Ignoring the snide comments of rich so called friends, and teases for being rounder, poorer, or a plumber, and just doing what she can to get good grades, great grades, to enter into the police academy. Not two weeks in, and not since she got the chance to make amends, her parents died.
She guzzled the beer.
No drama Jane, no drama. She told herself each day. She had to be the responsible child, the big sister, the owner of their shop so pop doesn't flip in his grave.
Being a cop was dangerous, stupid, and worried her mother on end. Risks Janie, risks. If we died and you died, who would take care of your brothers? That was her ma's standard line of argument.
She dropped out of the academy the day she received the news of their death.
Rizzoli and sons. She wasn't even in her pop's grand plan, and Tommy was supposed to be helping so she can continue on her own dream. But who cares about her dreams? As long as she gets the sinks fixed, the toilets working, and the bills paid.
She turned off the television - it was all just loud and annoying.
She couldn't even be attracted to a right person.
The woman with the soft golden brown hair, the beautiful woman, the woman with the fingers on her forehead and the flutters they had caused her.
She couldn't even be attracted to a right person - the woman in a mob's house. She took another gulp.
She laid back on the couch, beer drank, and a little drunk. She ran her fingers along her own forehead, feeling nothing different, nothing special, the small bump now gone, and remembering the flutters.
She closed her eyes and hoped for sleep. Today wasn't a good day, or a bad day. She met someone today. Someone who actually looked at her, and made her feel something that opposes her everyday reminder - the woman who caused the flutters was drama, and she liked drama.
With drama came risks, and was that not why she loved the idea of being a cop once? The chase, the adrenaline rush, and the sense of justice it provided.
The sensation too, of being able to walk into a room and to be seen as her, to be acknowledged as her. As her, and not as the plumber's daughter, or as the Rizzoli boys' big sister, but as her - Detective Jane Rizzoli.
How nice would that be? She thought as she cradled an empty bottle. It wasn't a good day, it wasn't a bad day. It was just a day where, she had to bill a mob house, and find herself considering the notion of having pipes burst so she can do another house call. She'll even scrimp a little on her next meal and give them a discount if the woman appeared again.
She mumbled her goodnights, to her parents and to her brothers. She mumbled her goodnights and fell asleep, trying to conjure up memories or dreams, of when she had some inkling still of what it means to be free.
She held onto the memory of the flutters; they warmed her, and she felt free.
A/N: Hi there, thank you, for the time~
Confession, I did not study how to be either a mob boss or a plumber. I meant to, but I didn't so, there's that. Apologies...Hmm. Hope it's all alright nonetheless, and...maybe, you could also check out the message I had left on my profile? It addresses future fanfics, if you intend to read them. All else aside, thank you, for the time=)
New a/n: As pointed out in the review, the grammatical error has thus been rectified, and thank you=)
Example line: "I'm not going to lie, I've always had a problem with laying down such lines...and, I've been the laid back kind, having lied often and hardly ever laying down lines." Right...? Is that, right? It makes little sense probably but, "grammar is the greatest joy in life".
"Delmo is not a word" Hahaha. I'm quoting Aunt Josephine now. "Banana."
Thank you, nonetheless and, as always, do feel free to teach me grammar - I do mean it=)