The figure in the shadows watched him from the corner of reproachful eyes.
He, in turn, gazed at it with equal interest, a lazy smile playing along lips that occasionally drew from a cigarette. After what might have been fifteen minutes of dead quiet, the figure broke the silence with a loud, hacking, obviously painful cough. It turned to the left and splat blood, wiping its mouth delicately with the edge of a tattered blanket.
He grinned, charmed by the sight.
When he stood, the figure jumped away from him so badly that it toppled over, momentarily forgetting its chains. He chortled, crossed the room, and placed the remnants of his supper and one of those mini boxes of fruit loops just out of range. Then sat back and lit another cigarette.
Waited for the show to begin.
Jane awoke with a start at Frost's insistent prodding. "Jane," he said loudly, "Jane, you gotta wake up! The press conference is in ten minutes, and Cavanaugh will kick your ass if you're not up there beside him and Korsak!"
Jane jolted upwards, causing paperwork to fly off her desk in all directions. "Ten minutes?" Her voice sounded like rocks in a blender. "Goddamnit, Frost! Why'd ya let me sleep?" She quickly began to gather the scattered files, cursing all the while.
Frost shrugged, looking, for the most part, unrepentant. "You needed it."
"No," she growled. "What I need is to be on time. I can't fuck this one up, Frost, you know that. It's too important. "
He watched her shrug into a fresh blazer and handed her a new cup of coffee as she rushed out of the bullpen, trying to tame her hair.
Frost shook his head as he sat to run through more missing persons reports. Jane always seemed to forget that she was important too.
Jane did not hear anything said during the press conference until her name was called. She dutifully stepped forward when Korsak named her as lead investigator, thereby officially turning the flock of vultures that was the Boston press upon her. She vaguely wondered how long it would take for the case to make national headlines. She was thankful that in the end, Cavanaugh and Korsak were able to artfully direct any questions asked of her back to themselves. Over and over she heard them give the same responses:
"Yes, Detective Rizzoli has dealt with serial killers before."
"Detective Rizzoli's history with the aforementioned Charles Hoyt is in no way pertinent to this case, and is thereby off limits for questioning."
"Yes, Detective Rizzoli has been in rehab recently following the incident that took place at the precinct earlier this year. "
"I assure you, her abilities are in no way compromised."
"Yes, we are fully confident in Detective Rizzoli's capacities and are certain that she is the right detective to lead this investigation."
Cavanaugh was just giving his closing remarks when a frantic yell came from the back of the group, spurring the photographers present into a whirlwind of flashes and clicks. "My son!" A lone woman pushed her way forward, "Is it my son? Is it him?" she screamed, "My Andrew? Please tell me, let me see him! Please!"
Jane sprang into action, darting from her place by the wall and swiftly making her way to the woman. "Ma'am, you need to calm down, please. " She took the distressed woman's hands in her own, "I'm sorry, but we haven't made any positive ids as of yet. If you could come with me, I'll be sure to answer any questions you may have. "
She folded the trembling woman under her arm and threw a scathing look to the reporters who calling for blood and fresh tears. Without another word, she strode from the room, head held high, strong jaw clenched tightly.
"And that, ladies and gentleman," finished Cavanaugh, "is why she is has the lead."
Back upstairs, Jane eschewed the interrogation room in favour of the small break room and its mismatched couch and armchairs. She gently sat the now sobbing woman down on the end of the couch and turned again to the door, signalling to Frost. It was only when he arrived that she started to speak.
"I'm Detective Rizzoli and this is Detective Frost. We're going to help you in any way we can, ma'am."
The woman struggled to control her breathing. "I – I'm Erika S-Sims," she began, shakily, "my s-son Andrew… Andrew is m-missing." She began to cry in earnest again.
Jane reached over and presented the distraught mother with a box of tissues. "Mrs. Sims," she said softly, "how long has Andrew been missing?"
"S-six months," she hiccupped. "We – my husband and I – talked to the police before, but without – without any new evidence they didn't have any leads and no one's called the house in so long with information and then – then I saw the news and I j-just knew…"
"Do you remember who the lead investigator on the case was?"
"Detective Carr."
Jane shot a look at Frost, who immediately nodded and left the room, hurrying to find the older detective.
Jane was startled as the small woman in front of her suddenly clasped her hand. "Detective Rizzoli, won't you please just let me check? I answered all the questions when Andrew first went missing. Please, can't you just take me to the ones you've found? I – I could tell you for sure if it was him or not, please…" she broke off at the look on Jane's face. "Please? I just need to see…"
"I'm sorry," said Jane quietly, and she really was. "We can't let you see any of the victims right now."
"But why? I would know if it was my son, I would." Mrs. Sims eyes widened slightly when her question was meant with silence. "W-what happened to them? What did he do to them?" she howled.
Jane was sharp, "Who is he? Do you know who is responsible for—" She was cut off by the door swinging open. "What's going on, Frost?"
"Jane," Frost's voice was low as he gestured for her to follow him, "You gotta see this."
"Jesus Christ…" The bullpen was filled to the brim with civilians. Some came in pairs or small groups, all clutched glossy photos in their hands.
"There she is!" A man in a corduroy jacket cried out, "That's Rizzoli, the one from the news!" And then she was swarmed.
It took nearly an hour just to sequester all the people into separate rooms or to cram them into to waiting areas. It seemed as if anyone with a missing child within the state of Massachusetts had shown up on her doorstep. When the families were all finally settled Jane reconvened with the task force that had been set up the day before.
"Andrews, you've got interrogation room A, Johnson - B, O'Reilly, you've got C. Velasquez, you've got annex room 340, Ryan - room 341, MacDougal - room 343. Davis, you're in the break room. Frost, you take care of Sims but find Carr first, she'll probably respond to a familiar face, I'll be back once I get a uniform set up in the waiting room to keep - "The death march began to play in her pocket, and she winced at the reproving glance flung her way by O'Reilly. "Sorry, I've got to take this; I'll catch up with you all later."
"Rizzoli."
"Jane, you know it's me, you don't have to remind me of your last name." Maura sounded exhausted. Jane sighed.
"I know Maura, force of habit, I guess. What have you got for me?"
"You told me to let you know when Dr. Jepson arrived."
Jane snorted. "He made it did he? Look at that, only a day later than he said, oh, however will we repay him for taking the time to converse with us lowly mortals?"
Jane could practically hear Maura frown on the other end of the line. "I'm going to assume you were joking, Jane. But yes, he has arrived and will be beginning his observations momentarily if you would like to join us."
Jane turned and surveyed the madness of the bullpen. "Sorry, Maur, I've got some things to take care of up here first. Tell him to go ahead. I'll be down as soon as I can. And Maura?"
"Yes, Jane?"
"It was a joke."
Jane listened happily to her best friend's soft laugh. "Yes, thank you for clearing that up. Although, I will have you know that since spending more time with you and your family my success at recognizing sarcasm has increased by the tenfold."
Jane smiled. "Probably not a good thing. I'd say I was a bad influence on you, but I think we both know that Ma's the problem."
Maura laughed again. "I'm going to tell her you said that, you know." Jane could hear muffled voices on Maura's end, "Jane, I must go, I'll see you later."
"Yeah, sure."
"Good luck."
"You too."
Jane was quite sure she would need all the luck she could get. That they both would. She disconnected the call and ran her palm over her face and through her hair.
Talking with Maura always made her feel like there was a little more light in the world, like there was enough to fight the dark. She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders and marched confidently forward, ready to enter the battle once again.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even close. But rest assured, if it were mine the whole Tommy/Maura will they/won't they thing wouldn't even be up for discussion. At all.
A/N: Ah, so I'm sorry it took so long to update. University life and such. But if there's still interest in the story, I will try to update more frequently, I promise. Review? Please? Thanks for reading! -Sloane