Days aren't a problem. There's light, and Boston homicide Detective Jane Rizzoli keeps an eye on her personal perimeter, and no one can sneak up on her.
Nights are another story.
Not every night, like it was at first, but there are still enough of them that she knows no matter what her life looks like, something inside is broken.
She doesn't tell anyone, because that's the same as admitting she can't take it, and she has never done that. The department shrink didn't know about these nights. She didn't tell him anything of importance, just the facts from the official reports. He finally cleared her to return to duty because of pressure from Rizzoli's superiors. He had no idea whether she was fit to be back on the streets with a loaded gun, but her co-workers stood up for her. They kept their suspicions to themselves, just like they didn't ask Jane how she was. There was gossip, because there was always gossip, but no one had first hand information.
Last night was the third consecutive night that she slept in one or two hour intervals. In between, there was sitting up sweating and screaming or moaning or, most mortifying, crying. There was also the clockwise sweep of her apartment, done completely in the dark. She checked every lock, looked behind every door, and under every piece of furniture, and hated herself for doing it.
At least she had Friday off. She could sleep during the day, when it was safe, and Jane was looking forward to it.
At 3:24 Thursday morning, though, Friday seemed like forever away. She gave up on trying to sleep and took a long shower, dressed, and went to work. It would be quiet for a while, and she could work on the backlog of paperwork that never got caught up, and feel safe for a while.
By the time the others arrived, Jane filled their inboxes with case notes, questions, and ideas. Detective Vince Korsak groaned, Detective Barry Frost got to work, and Medical Examiner Dr. Maura Isles e-mailed asking if Jane wanted to have dinner or drinks or both after work. In return, Korsak got the finger, Frost got coffee every time Jane got up to get more, and Maura was invited to family dinner. She could hold the guys at bay with her attitude, but Maura would want to talk, and dropping her into the Rizzoli household guaranteed it wouldn't happen. Maura answered affirmatively within seconds, and Jane called her mother to let her know they'd need another place setting.
They didn't get called out, but Jane still managed to avoid Maura until just before 5 p.m. Maura walked into the bullpen, saw Jane, and stopped. Jane looked awful, like someone who was chronically ill. Maura schooled her expression to neutral and came all the way in to the cramped office and sat in the chair beside Jane's desk. "Ready to go?"
"In a minute," Jane answered without looking away from her computer. Her fingers worked the keyboard steadily for three and half minutes before she stopped typing and clicked to save her work. She logged out and turned her chair toward her desk, then stood up. "Do you mind driving?"
"Are you feeling all right?" Maura stood up, too, and followed Jane toward the door.
"I'm a little tired."
Maura was still learning about her friend, but knew her well enough to translate 'a little tired' into 'completely exhausted.' "Are you sure that's all?"
Jane held the stairway door open for Maura. "Yeah, I'm sure. Ma's makin' manicotti. She was still ditherin' about dessert, so I voted cannoli for both of us."
"I'm aware. Your mother asked me to bring it."
On cue, Jane's stomach growled. "Shouldn't have skipped lunch."
"Why didn't you call? I would have brought you something."
Jane shrugged and kept moving down the steps. Two more flights to the lobby.
"It's not healthy to skip meals, Jane."
"Yes, Mom, I know."
"It wreaks havoc on your blood sugar," Maura began.
Jane sped up a little, and waited, holding the door open. "Can we save the lecture for another day?"
"Like you'll listen to it then."
"I listen," Jane protested. "I just don't always do what you want."
"You do what you want."
"Yeah." Jane pushed through the glass door and held it so Maura could pass. "Don't feel special. I ignore everybody the same."
"I noticed." Maura pointed in the direction her car was parked, and they fell in step. "Have any plans for your day off?"
"I'm going to be lazy and do absolutely nothing." 'Except sleep, I hope,' Jane added mentally.
"How can you do that?"
"Years of practice?" Jane offered.
"Amusing, but don't give up your day job."
Jane dramatically clasped her hands to her chest. "I'm wounded by your accurate use of sarcasm." She laughed.
"Accuracy matters," Maura laughed with her.
"No, that's size."
"What? Oh, that's not true."
"Wait. Don't, please don't go all sex Wikipedia on me when I'm sober."
"Is it all right when you're inebriated?"
"We'll find out another night that we're not having dinner with my parents." Jane looked across the car roof at Maura. "Shit, that means you're going to"
"Language." Maura opened her door and got in.
"get me drunk and talk dirty to me." Jane brightened and got into the car. "We can let Korsak and Frost listen in for fifty bucks each."
"No," Maura said firmly.
"Oh, c'mon," Jane teased while Maura started the engine.
"When I get you drunk and talk dirty to you, you won't want any witnesses for what happens after," Maura said confidently.
Jane stared at her, mouth open.
Maura realized she'd crossed that line again, and decided she didn't care. She flat out lusted after Jane Rizzoli, who was either the dimmest detective in Boston, a wonderful actress, or completely unaware of Maura's feelings. More and more, Maura's conclusion pointed to clueless. It was amusing that Jane, who was so good at reading everyone around her, didn't pick up on Maura's slow seduction, which just hopped up into a higher gear.
"Nothing to say, Detective?" Maura couldn't resist teasing.
"You're killin' me, Doc."
"Oh no, that comes much, much later," Maura answered flirtatiously. At the look on Jane's face, she decided she should stop before Jane's head exploded and changed the topic. "We don't have to stop. I had dessert delivered."
Jane's brain was still on the track where Maura was hitting on her. "Huh."
"I believe your mother will approve."
"She approves of everything you do." 'Except maybe taunting me with sex,' Jane mused. 'Shit, Ma'd probably tell Maura she's doin' the perfect thing.