A/N: Thank you to everyone coming along on this merry slightly-left-of-centre journey with me :) it's fun, and intriguing. And to jjmlucky13 - I hear ya, and I have plans :)

Tx

Observations 3: The Robber

I don't mind admitting, I almost asked the woman out. Hell, there wouldn't be a man here who wouldn't have at least thought about it. Occasionally they tried, always they failed. A long long line consisting of the sleazy, the over-confident, God even the under-confident would shuffle past, try their luck only to join the ranks of the great rejected.

It's no surprise, that woman has class. Everyone noticed when she first came in, with that Jane Rizzoli. Now Rizzoli is someone who fits in at the dirty Robber. But Dr Isles, she stood out in her dress and heels and perfect hair and everyone, and I mean everyone noticed. That night alone I fielded questions from half the local flies - who was she, where did she come from, was she new in town - and I'm pretty sure I already knew she was the chief medical examiner and she'd been working with the BPD for months, but it was the first time she'd ventured anywhere near here.

I think Rizzoli had dragged her. I'll have to thank her for that one day.

I mean seriously, she walks in and this place goes from beer, batter and burgers to Cabernet, capers and some weird-ass kale thing everyone insists on putting in their salad.

...and even I'm wondering what "Dirty Robber" would sound like in French

Now don't get me wrong, she's not snobby. You'd be forgiven for thinking it and I did wonder on that first night, but she's not. At first she was just, a bit reserved maybe. Maybe she felt a bit too capers and kale for the burgers and beer. But she started to come along every Friday with Rizzoli and the BPD posse and over the years i'd say she has become... more comfortable - maybe, like, more at ease with herself and the boys... And definitely Jane. And yes even me - she laughs and jokes with me and every so often makes suggestions for the wine list... Which is sort of my fault, I did make one change for her once, the first time we talked. Well.. Argued.. for half an hour about red wine options and I caved. And that smile and those eyes, god almighty they look right into you, you know? That was when I almost asked her out. Almost.

But I didn't because I knew what the answer would be. instead I just got the darned wine, and up to now, I've sold every bottle bar one to her. Nobody else drinks it - nobody else knows what the hell it is - but I don't have the guts to tell her, so the truth is I keep it on the menu and just buy a couple of bottles a week from the local shop just to have it on hand for her.

So she'd normally be drinking the wine tonight, but Rizzoli has asked for a favour, and it is standing in a box in my bar fridge next to the Bud. Damn fancy if you ask me.

It's the four of them - Korsak, the two Rizzolis and Dr Isles, and they're celebrating Jane being back at work after some new dumb-ass stunt that nearly got her killed.. Word on the street is that Dr. Isles saved her life, and I threatened the word with a punch to the jaw when he made some dirty comment about her giving Jane CPR. Because that sort of thing isn't class. And Dr Isles is. And screw it - Jane may be one of the boys but she risks her life every day for this city and she deserves better too. So I threatened his face then I told him he wasn't welcome until he could act less like an ape. Never liked that Crowe guy.

I'm polishing the glasses when she looks up at me and nods - I guess that is my cue. I wink at her, reach for the box and fumble it open. I'm not used to bottles like this in boxes. This one I can't even pronounce, something like a Billiecart and a Salmon.

And I have no doubt it goes nicely in a French restaurant with capers and kale.

I know how to pop a cork and I make sure it is loud - and suddenly I am the man and the darned centre of attention with my fancy French champagne in an average pub in the middle of Boston. And even I have my secrets - Rizzoli doesn't know but I found some old flutes from the guy who owned the place before me and they are as fancy as the champagne. Royal something glassware. I don't care, it's royal and has the insignia on it which means Dr Isles will notice. And I only have four.

So to make it special I straighten my collar, throw a white hand towel over my arm as that's the closest thing I have to a cloth napkin like the posh waiters in the French restaurants have, place the empty flutes on my tray and walk towards them with the bottle, as confidently posh as I can manage. I feel like I am betraying every publican bone in my body and yet it is so worth it when I see the look on her face, and those eyes - again - She looks at the bottle and then at Jane and back at the bottle again, that darned Rizzoli is beaming like the cat who got the cream.

"Your champagne, mademoiselles and sirs.."

Ok, so I've been practicing this one for 24 hours since Jane asked the favour and I am sure I got it wrong because of the way Dr Isles laughs, but doesn't correct me and I swear somehow that is important. Korsak and Frank are obviously in on the secret - they are not surprised but probably really curious to try this stuff. So I pour it and leave the glasses and the bottle with them and throw one last glance at Dr Isles, who looks at me like I'm the best waiter she's ever seen and in that moment I seriously contemplate asking her out again... But later...

Maybe it's my French.

As I leave the table I hear "this is for you.." But miss the rest of it because there are other people with far more average taste leaning on my bar needing their beer and burgers. So I'm busy with them, but I keep an eye on that table and watch the two men navigating their champagne and Jane enjoying hers. And Dr Isles, she is beaming.

I was doing Jane a favour by doing this?

I'm caught up in the dinner rush and the next time I look at the table, it's just the two of them, like on that first night when I had to hold the whole of Boston back from Dr Isles.

And so sue me that I can't help staring at the two of them, Jane has something in her hand and is holding it out, Dr Isles has a hand to her face and has gone a shade of red that would make a tomato blush - and those eyes, man they are so wide as she stares at that thing. The 'oh my god, Jane' is obvious even from here. As obvious as how much she clearly loves it, I've been married - I've navigated the rocky waters of the woman really liking something versus when they're just trying to make you feel better but you know you've messed it up.

No messing it up this time. Clearly. She's on a winner.

Damn Rizzoli, you have style.

She's saying something important because I can see the way Dr Isles attempts to balance her attention between Jane, the item in her hand, and the red tinge to her face. Then suddenly Jane leans across the table and... kisses the corner of Dr Isles mouth... And doesn't move away straight away, and Dr Isles closes her eyes and her her hand drops down to the table, where Rizzoli's hand is resting...

And I'm still staring, because, well.. Come on! Give a guy a break.

I finally know why that endless list of suitors, including me, will only ever be that - endless, and always disappointed.

That Rizzoli woman has ruined it for all of us.