Author's Note: Yes, I have taken total liberties with this character, because I think there is so much more than what we see on the show. But for those of you who dislike or disagree, I understand but please know I did it with love because I absolutely *adore* them.

Thank you as always for following

Tx

Observations 4: The Lab

I don't mind saying, I am a lean, mean analysing machine.

I make analysis look good. Cool, hip, with a hint of swag. With one hand I can take your measley excuse for a hypothesis and turn it on its head as quickly as you can say 'mass spectrometer', and with the other I can give you the salvation of a ballistics match.

Oh yes, I am the container filled with explosive or incendiary material, designed to explode on impact or when detonated by a timing, proximity, or remote-control device.…

The. Bomb.

Obviously I would never share this information out loud… Because actually saying that would be arrogant, or self-assured, or presumptuous, or rude. Take Dr Isles, for example, who despite being brilliant, extremely worldly, and an exceptional Medical Examiner, is none of those aforementioned things. She has class, and tact, and a modicum of humility.

And then.. there is Detective Rizzoli. Who is all of those aforementioned things, all of the time.

Who I know, is on her way right now.

You know, at one stage I initiated a study on the temperature of the room when Jane Rizzoli walked into it. After all, everyone always says that the air cools a few degrees whenever she is nearby (the addendum that that is they also say a few other things, particularly in reference to Jane's incessant need to make everybody around her feel inadequate).

Of course I felt the hypothesis warranted testing. I set up a digital thermometer under my clipboard when she walked in to observe one of Dr Isles' autopsies, but the interference from the conducting nature of the metal made getting any reasonable data impossible.

Oh, and I was discovered. Before I could re-test the theory with a newly acquired plastic clipboard Dr Isles noticed the thermometer, and I had to fabricate a scenario where I wasn't feeling well and was monitoring my own temperature. She of course then forced me to take the rest of the day off and one of my colleagues got to analyse the composition of that drowning victim's last meal… Which naturally, led to the arrest.

You know what that is?

Newton's Third Law. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction

It is scientist's Karma.

I can hear her coming of course. Detective Rizzoli is one of only a few women at the Boston Police Department, but even so she has a particular stride about her that always signals her arrival… one that I originally learned to identify, for the most part, so I wouldn't have to be present for it.

And even though I distinctly heard the conversation where Dr Isles said she would call if she found anything, I have found that impatience and the Detective are well-acquainted and visiting in the middle of an otherwise peaceful analysis seems to be her forte. Particularly when Dr Isles is working. So, thermometer essentially confiscated, my curiosity and analytical skills venture elsewhere.

We've been working on this data for several hours now, Dr Isles is always extremely thorough, which I appreciate, but I have observed, of late, that there seems to be an added – emotional response – when it involves Detective Rizzoli's cases.

Clue 2.

And it's true, this was supposed to be the answer – the final link in the evidentiary chain that would allow the detectives to close in on a suspect they had otherwise only been able to circle. It was supposed to spell the end of the case. Unfortunately, science has other ideas. Science, in all her definitive, causal glory, has been a downright bitch.

I can't help wondering if Science has taken some lessons from Detective Rizzoli.

Dr Isles is looking intently at the results I have shown her, pinching the bridge of her nose in a sign of… I would hypothesise disappointment and frustration. She sighs, just in time for a distinctly familiar Detective-shaped shadow to appear in the door, push it open with far more force than is reasonably necessary of course, and sweep inside.

"Come on Doctor, give me the good news!" She claps her hands together, walks up to us, purses her lips and rests her hands on her hips. I watch her eyes dart between Dr Isles, the lab data, and me, then back to Dr Isles again. She crosses her arms over her chest and frowns. "That doesn't look like good news."

Dr Isles shakes her head, and her shoulders rise in a sign of tension. "There's just not enough evidence to support any connection, Jane..."

The detective lets out a growl of frustration, and this, this point is where grown men and women run… Where the reality of saying no clashes with the desire to remain acquainted with ones limbs... or at least to be left standing with a shred of self respect. The Darwinian theory of evolution? He should have just declared 'Don't. Poke. The Bear.'

And suddenly she is looking at me, and I take a small step back, behind Dr. Isles. I tell myself she is my superior, far better-equipped to deal with Rizzoli-ism, plus she is closest to the scalpels…

The Detective frowns at me, if I didn't know better, in confusion, then turns back to Dr Isles. My eyes can't help but flick to the scalpels.

Then, to my surprise she places a hand on Dr Isles' arm and thanks her for trying. She thanks her. And she looks at me too, with the same emotion.

Inconveniently this behaviour clashes with my original hypothesis. And I wonder for a moment if after my earlier insult, maybe Science is now coming to her defence.

Rizzoli asks Dr Isles to let her know if she finds anything. She looks at me and nods as if she is actually accepting we haven't been any help. I can't help feeling my eyes widen as I observe… 'The bear', Jane Rizzoli, around Dr Isles is more like a tame Doberman. Protective, yes, but not aggressive. Not intrusive. Not presumptuous, or arrogant, or rude. Not a bitch, at all.

Seriously?

As if antimatter is no longer a thing.

I note how Dr Isles takes a single breath out of time with the rest – a respirational anomaly that seems to occur around the same time as the Detective came into contact with her arm. My eyes now narrow with interest, like they do when I'm close to uncovering something… very evidentiary.

Clue 3.

"My place?" Detective Rizzoli throws over her shoulder as she walks towards the exit.

"Of course-" Dr Isles replies, and now her body language has my full attention I can see a relaxed dip in her shoulders. "6:30?"

"You betcha."

"Chinese?"

"Hmm…" Near the door, Rizzoli spins lightly on the ball of one booted foot, arms swinging away from her body, the other coming to rest confidently behind it. Yet again, I can't hide my surprise, that was almost… graceful. Her eyes glint, and courtesy of her left zygomaticus she throws Dr Isles a lop-sided smile. "Mexican."

Dr Isles tilts her head to the side. The side-long glance a person gives when they intend to imply a level of cunning. "Margaritas?"

Clue 4.

My eyes dart quickly to my second subject.

"Ohhh Maura Isles…" I note her voice has dropped to a lower register, and pay particular attention to she the way she draws out Dr Isles' first name, narrows her eyes in a gesture inferring collusion, then smiles, very widely. "Now you're talking."

There would be many who might hypothesise a complete facial fracture if Detective Rizzoli ever smiled like that. But not Dr Isles, because I have observed a distinct increase in blood flow around the capillaries of her neck and cheek.

Clue 5.

The Detective straightens, and their mutual role play dissolves with a short laugh. "See you later." She says, casually. "Later, Senior Criminalist Chang!" She shouts from down the hall.

And Detective Rizzoli is gone from the room, except she isn't. There is DNA, there is inquisition... There is intent.

And I have an evidentiary link.

Dr Isles stops a moment, and turns, regarding me carefully.

Lean, mean, analysing machine. Oh Susie, you have outdone yourself

"I believe there is a plethora of evidence to support that connection, Dr Isles." I say with a smirk.

And she looks at me, a bit lost at first but finally her pupils dilate and dart to the side, her mouth twitches in an obvious outward display of veiled discomfort. I shrug, pull my clipboard to my chest and turn to leave, I don't know what on earth she has to be uncomfortable about… but my smirk grows into a smile.