Full disclaimers in Chapter 1

ALERT: If you have not watched the show yet, there might be spoilers.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Rizzoli & Isles nor any of the characters from the show. I am writing this purely for entertainment, not profit. Rizzoli and Isles are property of Tess Gerritsen and TNT.

I am not a native English speaker, and I don't have a beta. So all mistakes are 100% mine.

Enough of disclaimers and warnings – read at your own risk. Reviews are always welcome!

Season 3 – Episode 8 – "Cuts Like a Knife"

"Maura, I think I owe you a triple apology."

"What did you do to me to owe me a triple apology?" Maura looked at Jane, baffled. She couldn't think of anything that serious for Jane to apologize three times.

"When you kept information about Tommy's arrest from me."

"Jane, that was almost a year ago. And you did apologize to me. And I told you I accepted your apology. And, for the record, I apologized to you as well."

"I know. Ugh. You take it so literally."

"I am sorry, I am not following. Please enlighten me."

"This situation, with Rilley and Frost and Frankie. You see… Cavannagh, he asked me not to tell, same way FBI asked you not to tell me about Tommy. And I did the same thing you did, and now I feel like you felt. I mean, I feel like you felt not being able to tell them, and now I am feeling the heat of not telling them like you had to handle my anger then."

"Yes, you said you hated me." Maura recalled how hurtful she had felt.

"And Frankie hates me too."

"What about Frost?"

"Frost knows the drill. But he probably hates me a little too."

"Let's replay it. You also hated me."

"I didn't really hate you, Maura, you know."

"And do you think Frankie – or Frost – really hate you?"

"It looks like it."

"Well, let me tell you, as much as you say you didn't hate me, it felt and looked for a while like you did."

"So you are trying to tell me that although every evidence is that they hate me, they really don't."

"You said you really didn't hate me then."

"No, I hated the situation we found ourselves into."

"Don't you think that is also what they hate right now?"

"I am not sure…"

"It took you a while as well to stop hating me – even if you were not really hating me."

"Frankie - he's never gonna talk to me again."

"Yeah, it felt like you were also never going to talk to me again."

"That is why I am triple apologizing, again."

"And there is nothing left for me to forgive you of. Back to the case."

"The blue residue I found in Anja's throat wound is methyl isobutyl ketone."

"Gee, thank you for the sympathy. I really appreciate it."

"Well, he'll get over it. Aren't you gonna say, 'what's the blue stuff?'"

(…)

"So, you must've had a wedding fantasy when you were little. Come on. Every little girl has one."

"Okay, it wasn't really a fantasy. It was - I had this dumb idea that I would say my vows at Fenway over home plate in a Red Sox Jersey."

Both laughed.

"It's not dumb. It's not exactly elegant, but at least it's colorful."

"And we would have the reception over the pitcher's mound, and we would serve foot-long hot dogs, and frozen lemonade. And the guests would throw peanuts at us instead of rice."

"Can I come?" Maura asked, hopeful.

"Maybe."

"Okay. A Red Sox jersey?"

"Okay, you're in my fantasy. You cannot tell me what to wear." Jane argued.

"I am not saying what you wear. But what would the guests, like me, need to wear?"

Jane chuckled. "I just assumed everyone would be in Red Sox jerseys too, because we were in Fenway park, right?"

"I wonder if they would have a fancier jersey…"

Jane laughed.

"Could I come to your Santorini wedding?"

"Of course. You would be my bridesmaid."

Jane chuckled. "Okay. I am afraid to ask."

"What?"

"What your bridesmaid would need to wear in this Santorini wedding? Some sort of heat resistant suit? Or maybe a firefighter outfit? To fight the lava from the volcano." Jane teasing, remembering Maura calling the firefighters' uniforms as outfits before.

"Oh, God, no!" Maura answered, horror in her voice. "I told you I would check for seismic activity. You would just dress normally for a wedding."

"Define normal in your fantasy wedding." Jane teased.

"Well, given the bright blue skies of Santorini, and the white contrast of the houses in the cliff, my gown would need to be off-white. And I would pick bright colors for the bridesmaids. Reds being my preference given the color palette."

"Okay, so I can almost wear my Red Sox Jersey on your fantasy wedding?"

"Correction. You could wear red, not a Red Sox Jersey." Maura chuckled. "The bridesmaids would wear strapless knee length red dresses, very summery."

A loud honking noise interrupted them.

"Ugh. I can't wait for Frost and Frankie to stop hating me so they can come back here and help move this mattress from the living room to my bedroom."

"Maybe we should, before that, mount the frame? Or were you able to do so yourself?"

"Of course not, Maura. I completely forgot about the box and the confusing instructions."

"Oh, I am pretty sure that after all of this Pinot Noir the instructions will be much clearer." Maura teased.

Jane sat, and then stood, offering Maura a hand. They moved to the bedroom, where the empty space for a bed sat, the boxes for the bed frame on a corner.

Maura retrieved the paper with instructions.

"Oh, I understand one thing now. The same bed frame can be used to different mattress sizes. This is very smart."

"Smart means complicated."

"Not really. Your mattress is what, a queen-size, right?"

"Yes. I used to have a double bed, and thought that changing the size as well would help, but a king would never fit in this bedroom."

"Okay. So give me that longest bean. Yes, that is it. And now the shortest one there. Fabulous." Maura was asking around, and Jane just kept following the instructions, waiting to see what would be the next hurdle. "There are letters here, for D, Q and K. Smart. So the tab needs to slide here."

Jane was impressed, after a few more orders, Maura had the frame of the bed mounted.

"Now we need the feet."

Jane picked the feet from the boxes, and the screws, and screw drivers, and more instructions.

"Oh, look, the instructions are in Sweddish."

"I don't know any Sweddish…"

"I am joking, Maura, it is just that they are complicated enough that they look Sweddish."

Maura looked the new sets of instructions. She threw the paper to the side, and showed Jane: "Look, these should not be complicated. There are eight feet, and there are eight holes in the bottom part of the frame we just mounted. What are the odds, huh?"

Between the two of them, they quickly put together the feet of the bed with the screw drivers.

"Who needs instructions when they have enough pinot noir?" Jane asked, eyeing the finish product.

Maura laughed.

"Now all that is left is for Frankie and Frost to stop hating you and get your mattress all the way on top of this perfectly mounted frame."

"Can't we do that ourselves?"

"Not after the amount of Pinot Noir we've had. That would be a hazard." Both laughed.