Puzzles:
Maura Isles enjoyed solving puzzles. Puzzles only had one right answer, one correct sequence, and she liked using the process of elimination to discover it. Currently, she was labeling the chart of her latest puzzle – Rose Heissman.
It was late evening, and the first two shifts of the day had already departed. The almost otherworldly third shift cops, the ones who patrolled through the early morning, were out doing their jobs. Maura made her own work schedule, and performing an autopsy close to midnight didn't bother her. Fears and superstitions were borne from ignorance, and there was no room for ignorance in her life. Maura Isles' universe was constructed entirely of facts. And facts would lead her to the answer to this particular puzzle: the cause of death.
"Head—Central Nervous system: the brain weighs..." [A crackle as the microphone shifts, then a pause] "1,310 grams, within normal limits."
Maura dutifully typed out the weight of the brain, letting the recording of her voice continue to run as she prepared her report. The glow of her computer screen gave the glass walls of the morgue an eerie sheen, but she ignored it.
"Skeletal system: Significantly decreased bone density–"
Even though she was dead, Rose Heissman's expression had seemed strangely peaceful to Maura while she worked. During the external examination, the doctor had noticed her sunken cheeks, the brittleness of her bones as they poked through thin layers of skin. Maura did not work with many cancer patients. Most of her bodies were clear homicides or bloody accidents – brutal, but quick. Seeing the way that the cancer, radiation, and chemotherapy had ravaged the old woman's body was depressing in a different sort of way.
"The lungs weigh: right, 353 grams, left..."
Maura turned off the recording. She normally liked taking dictation, but tonight, her mind was filled with thoughts of Jane.
'Jane.'
She hadn't spoken with the detective since their awkward conversation the day before. Maura had called in the morning and offered to spend a few hours visiting, but Jane had told her not to bother, claiming she had physical therapy scheduled. The blonde knew that was a lie, but she couldn't get a handle on Jane's motives. Was the detective embarrassed by Maura's confession, or was she just tired of everyone hovering over her? Maura knew how much Jane valued her space and her independence.
"I can't finish this until I get the toxicology report back anyway," Maura said to herself, saving her work so far and shutting down her computer. Trying to get anything else done tonight was hopeless. The techs in the lab would take a while to send her the results.
Raising her arms above her head and leaning forward, Maura let out a sigh of relief as she stretched the soreness out of her shoulders. She normally had excellent posture, but working long hours into the night took a toll on the healthiest of physical specimens. A fleeting thought of what a fine specimen her friend Jane Rizzoli was made the medical examiner pause, and then chastise herself as she lowered her arms.
Perhaps confessing that she felt something 'more' for Jane had not been a wise decision. At least she had not attempted to define 'more'. That might have gotten her into even deeper trouble.
The buzz of Maura's phone against her hip interrupted her silent analysis. "Isles," came the crisp, automatic response as she answered the call.
"Maura, it's Jane. Can you get over here right now?"
The medical examiner frowned even though Jane couldn't see her. "Where, the hospital?"
"Yeah, could you – sir, you need to calm down. No, I'm just – sir, I... Maura, I need you..."
If only Jane had said those words to her in a different context, it would have made Maura's night. But it sounded like the detective needed to her help. That hypothesis was confirmed when Maura heard muffled voices in the background and what sounded like the scuffing of boots across a tile floor. Then, Jane's voice again – "Oh good, security. Listen, if you don't calm down, they're going to haul your ass out of here."
Maura's eyes widened and she instantly grabbed for her purse, leaving the computer and the rest of her belongings where they were. "Security? Jane, what's going on?"
"Sorry, Maur, I have to go..." was all the detective managed to say before she hung up the phone.
There was no question in Maura's mind. If Jane needed her, she would come right away, even without a full explanation.
. . .
The drive to the hospital seemed to take longer than usual despite the lack of traffic on the roads. Even in a city as busy as Boston, most people were sound asleep at this time of night. Maura clutched the steering wheel hard enough to drain the blood from her knuckles. She knew that Jane was capable of taking care of herself, and it hadn't sounded like her friend was in immediate danger, but Maura's mind kept returning to the shooting.
'There was so much blood...'
Clinging to the rational hope that Jane wouldn't have hung up if she was in physical trouble, Maura parked the car near the emergency entrance in the back, ignoring the blaring, large-lettered signs that told her the area was off limits. If Jane did need her help, she wasn't taking any chances.
Pulling out her cell phone again, Maura quickly checked for messages and missed alerts. Jane hadn't tried to call her a second time. Deciding to take that as a good sign, the medical examiner scrolled through her contact list, hitting a number that she had used several times in the past few weeks. She was lucky that Gerald Forbes owed her a favor – she had helped him pass his Boards with flying colors several years ago.
"Gerry? Yes, this is Maura," she confirmed when a sleepy voice answered. "No, just stay on the line. I need you to say 'open sesame' for me so that I can get into the hospital after hours..."
After explaining herself to two EMTs, the irritated night receptionist, the RN on duty, and a Fellow who blanched at the word 'lawsuit', Maura was finally able to gain access to the upper floors. There was muttering about 'visiting hours' and 'completely unnecessary panics', but Maura ignored the cross-looking nurse that finally let her through.
To her surprise – and the nurse's, she could tell – there was already quite a crowd assembled in the hallway. A trio of security guards fingered their belts, reaching for something Maura couldn't see, but assumed was some sort of stick or taser. Were hospital security guards even allowed to carry weapons?
And then she saw the source of the commotion. Jane, always one for finding new ways to get in trouble, had used the bulk of her wheelchair to back an angry looking young man against a door, positioning herself directly between him and the frightened looking floor nurses and a night janitor who had stopped at the other end of the hall to watch.
"Let me talk to someone in charge!" The young man pushed forward, moving past Jane's chair and clenching his fists.
"Sir, you need to leave," one of the security guards said, stepping forward. "This area is restricted."
"Find me someone who can explain what happened to my mother! I just got off the plane from New York, and nobody knows where her body is or how she died..." The man continued ranting, completely ignoring the presence of the security guards.
Typical to her nature, Jane interrupted, putting herself right in the middle of the confrontation. "I understand that you want to know what's going on with your mother. Have you talked to your father at all, Mr. Heissman?"
"Weaver," the man corrected. "My last name is Weaver. He's my stepfather."
Jane raised her eyebrows, making a mental note of the new information. "Your mother's body is at the Boston Police Department. I promise, we're going to figure out what happened to her, but you need to calm down." Noticing her new audience, Jane motioned for Maura to join her. "This is Dr. Maura Isles. She's doing the autopsy -"
As soon as he heard those words, Weaver's interest was immediately piqued. "No one's giving me any answers. She was doing better, and now..."
An expression of grief played across his face, and Maura couldn't help empathizing with his loss. She stepped forward. "I promise that your mother is in good hands." She extended an arm in greeting, and then reached into her purse to fish for one of her business cards. "Her autopsy is complete, and all of her bloodwork has been sent to our lab. Hopefully, we'll have some answers for you soon. Normally, those results are kept confidential, but considering the unusual circumstances, I would be willing to discuss some of the details with you..." she paused, glancing at the security guards who were still hovering around them, "... tomorrow morning. Here's my contact information. Call me, and we'll set up an appointment."
She didn't mention the numerous favors she had called in to get Rose on her table. A sweet, angelic smile had convinced the Chief to let her tap BPD resources, and a touch of blackmail (she had witnessed a certain lab specialist in a compromising position with a colleague at last year's New Years gathering) had gotten her name bumped up on the waiting list. Although she was extremely satisfied with her career as it was, Maura would have made an excellent businesswoman.
"Okay." Still burning off his residual anger, Mr. Weaver shoved Maura's card into his pocket a little too roughly, but he seemed satisfied with the compromise.
"All right, people, clear out," the detective said, waving her hands and trying to look as official as possible from her wheelchair. Surprisingly, everyone obeyed, even Weaver, who finally allowed the burly security guards to escort him off the floor, although he did snatch one last glance over his shoulder before leaving the hallway. The nurses and janitor were quick to leave since the commotion was over, and Jane and Maura suddenly found themselves alone.
The medical examiner reached out to push Jane's wheelchair, but pulled her hands back before making contact, realizing that Jane would probably resent the help. "How did he even get up here? The RN looked at me like I had requested the secret formula to Coca-Cola when I asked to come upstairs," Maura asked, opening the door to Jane's hospital room and letting the detective wheel herself through.
Jane shrugged, stopping next to her bed and attempting to lift herself onto the mattress. "Well, you didn't have security come chase you down," she pointed out. Reluctantly, she accepted Maura's nonverbal offer to help. "Ugh, I hate this. It feels like I can't do anything anymore because the rest of my body is all connected to my torso."
Maura opened her mouth to begin explaining how the abdominal muscles and lower back helped regulate balance and posture, but stopped as she looked down into Jane's familiar brown eyes. They were creased at the corners in discomfort, and she was obviously irritated at her limited mobility, but somehow, Jane still looked beautiful to her.
'Beautiful. I have always thought of Jane as powerful, confident, maybe even sexy, but beautiful?'
"Jane, why did you ask me to come here tonight?" Maura asked impulsively, almost blurting out the question. "Mr. Weaver seemed frustrated, but it didn't seem like anything you couldn't handle." Jane had faced down serial killers and convicted felons before. Surely one pushy relative couldn't be too much trouble.
"Because we're a team. I know this isn't a real case, but... you're my back-up, Maur."
Coming from anyone else, it would have been a casual statement, but knowing Jane like she did, Maura knew that it meant so much more. The doctor was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that Jane was in her nightgown, definitely lacking a bra, and even with slightly messy bandaging and even messier dark hair, she looked absolutely stunning. Maura couldn't decide whether to step back or pull closer...
'Jane, if you had any idea...'
But Jane did seem to have an idea. She was a detective, after all, and she gave Maura a pointed look when the medical examiner's eyes drifted down the length of her body. Reaching a silent decision, Jane patted the mattress beside her. "Come here."
The normally verbose Dr. Isles obeyed without a word, perching on the edge of the bed. She almost jumped when Jane's arm moved to wrap around the curve of her waist. "You don't have to sit so far away..."
"Jane, I really don't want to make you uncomfortable. I know what I said yesterday -"
"I've been thinking about that," Jane said in a low voice, never breaking eye contact. Maura felt hypnotized. How could Jane just look at her like that and make her train of thought completely disappear? "I'm thinking that... maybe you shouldn't think so much..."
And miraculously, Jane leaned up, and Maura found herself dipping down to meet her, pausing inches away from her lover's face and holding her breath. She still felt the detective's arm, warm and secure, around her waist, and her heart was hammering double-time against the wall of her chest. She held completely still, waiting for Jane to close the final distance.
With a tilt of her chin, Jane caused their lips to brush, and Maura felt the familiar spark shoot up her spine, the welcome heat blooming in her abdomen, causing her face to flush and goosebumps to spread rapidly along her arms.
They pulled apart for a single heartbeat before their mouths met again. And again. And somehow, Maura found herself with eyes closed, tucked tight against Jane's side, their thighs pressed together and their lips dancing in a deep, hungry kiss that was everything Maura wanted, but also everything that she was terrified of.