They started the drive back to the precinct in silence.
Jane was thinking about Dead Rose and her opinions about their love life, Maura was thinking about the strange connection with the goth gang. With the ubiquitous and heavy makeup it was impossible to guess the age of the people she had spoken with, but they were all uniformly polite and although they viewed death through rose-tinted glasses that she had discarded before she even started her training, they held interesting views on all kinds of things. She felt invigorated by the conversations.
"Those people were very nice, I look forward to going to Jay's place again."
"If it's still there when we're done. If the owner is our killer he could go away for a long time and since he holds the permits the bar will shutter. All the nice little bats will lose their belfry."
"That's terrible."
"He should have thought about that before he went out hunting."
"We don't know if he's guilty, but I agree. Still, it's sad."
"Dead Rose, the girl I was talking to, said they'll just move on. She said they swarm like bees, moving to the new place as a group. They are such a small subculture they really stick together."
"Hmm. Maybe I have an idea."
"About how we're gonna find Robert the bar guy?"
"About how we're going to help our new friends. Did you get Dead Rose's number?"
"No, but I think she'll get in touch pretty soon. Why?"
"I think she could give me valuable input on what they're looking for in a club or bar."
"Where are you going with this?"
"The Isles Foundation was created to support craftsmen and culture. This is a culture. The foundation could spin off a small offshoot chaired by our new friends to operate a bar of their own."
"You're going to misuse the foundation to run a bar? Have you lost it completely?"
"Hear me out. Many of them are underage, I think. Nothing says the bar has to sell alcohol. It could be set up as a music place, selling non-alcoholic beverages and giving bands a place to perform. A bit like a community center? Getting underage people out of regular bars and into a better environment is a good fit for the Isles Foundation."
"You are nuts. Sweet, cute and lovable, but nuts. Even if you're just trying to turn yourself into Queen of the Bees instead of Queen of the Dead."
"Thank you. How come you're so sure Dead Rose will call you, by the way?"
"She volunteered to help us in bed." Um, maybe I could have phrased that differently...
"How generous of her. And of you. Bringing in a lesbian consultant to help along the sex life we do not have yet."
"Oh no, she's straight. She's just willing to make an exception for us."
"Exactly how is she different from you then?"
Jane groaned and covered her eyes with a hand.
"I am NOT ready to have this conversation in broad daylight and sober! Can we please come back to this sometime later?"
"I'll add it to my list."
Before Jane could dig herself in deeper they arrived back at Cop Central and drove into the underground garage. Jane rode the elevator up to Homicide, where she explained her tip to Frost. After five minutes of hacking Frost reported that the red mustang was a late-80:s model with very little to recommend it and that the tax had lapsed. He had also sent out BOLOs on both Robert and the car.
"So where would he hide that POS now that he suspects it's wanted?"
"There's a garage specializing in engine rebuilds and metal work a couple of blocks from the bar. He could have stashed it there. A regular parking lot has people coming through all the time but a workshop would be more private."
"Damn, I wish Dead Rose had given me her number. She might know if he does business with them."
"Who is Dead Rose?"
"A contact on the case. Never mind."
"First Ass-man and now Dead Rose. Are we switching to code names?"
"She had information about the bar guy."
"And you didn't take her number."
"She would have thought I was trying to get her into bed."
"Were you?"
"No! She offered it herself. Wait..." Jane almost hit the desk with her head. "I swear I would pay a hundred dollars to have my mouth wired shut right now. We talked, she told me about Robert and his red car, then she was upset about my lifestyle and offered to help. I gave her my card but I felt uncomfortable asking for her number."
"And you didn't even take down her real name."
"IT GOT COMPLICATED, alright? She offered to have a go with me and Maura in bed and I was a bit thrown by that."
"She's a sex therapist?"
"No, apparently she can assemble an IKEA bureau in her sleep."
"You know what, I can't even."
Jane rested her head in her hands. "This day... this day will be the death of me. I wonder if the collar restricts blood flow to my brain or something."
"I have the address of that garage. Wanna go check?"
"Please. You're driving."
"Since when do you let me drive?"
"Since Maura despaired over my driving and bought me this T-shirt as a warning to others."
- R&I -
They arrived at the garage and took a quick look around outside. No visible movement, but sounds of air tools could be heard from inside. Jane went first, pulled the door open and crept in with Frost at her heels. Frost frowned at the slick layer of old grease on the floor, but didn't hesitate to step in it. The workshop was apparently closed, the lights were off and a dusty Charger stood abandoned on one of the lifts. They slowly rounded a corner in the L-shaped room, listening for movement or voices, and Jane saw a boxy blue car that looked like it was from the 70's. She ignored it and inched ahead, hand slowly moving toward the gun on her hip while listening for any change in the sounds. Frost, being more interested in cars, recognized the blue car as a vintage Maserati and stopped to pull his gun. No way a car worth a hundred grand should be in a crap workshop like this. He cleared his throat softly to get Jane to turn around.
"Chop shop. Exotic sportscar. Call for backup." He was whispering, but Jane understood and walked back toward the entrance to step outside and make the call. The lights came on, since she now moved fast enough for the motion detectors to trigger. All sounds stopped. Then they heard a door crash open somewhere further in, and Jane sprinted for the exit. Across a floor grating. In heels she wasn't used to.
Her left heel stabbed through the grating, trapping her foot and throwing her forward. She twisted and landed on her left hip and both elbows as the heel snapped off. She coasted several inches in the grease on the floor until the rivet on her left front pocket snagged on the next grating and she stopped with a jerk and a tearing of fabric. Her internal voice of reason screamed "You can't die before you tell her!" and her heart filled with adrenaline again. Someone rounded the corner with a two-foot ring wrench in his hand, saw Frost with his gun raised and immediately turned and fled back into the shop. Jane was trying to wriggle free from the grating that held her jeans trapped, further tearing the pants leg open. Frost was calling in backup one-handed while still aiming into the back of the garage in case someone returned.
Five minutes later black-and-whites were arriving in force from the earlier crime scene a few blocks away, chased by a van full of subjects from Susie's team. They began checking the chop shop and quickly came to the conclusion that Boston homicide had inadvertently busted a car theft ring. Jane held the remains of her jeans in place with both hands and ordered a uniform to drive her back to Cop Central. Since she was covered in gunk she rode on the perp bench in the back for the second time since lunch. She convinced the officer to drive her directly into the underground garage instead of dropping her off at the entrance and she limped back into the morgue, exposing quite a lot of leg and bruised hip every time she moved her left foot forward. Once again she stopped inside the double doors with her hands up to avoid contaminating things. The subjects stared in silent awe.
"Honey, I'm home." Maura came out of the walk-in fridge, staring wide-eyed at her.
"Hi Maura. Can I borrow your shower again?"
"You've been gone less than an hour, what happened?"
"We were looking for the red car and busted a car theft gang by mistake. I messed up my clothes trying to get out when things went sideways. At least they're not evidence this time."
"I'll get some de-greasing compound for your skin. Go into my office and remove your clothes again. Please put those jeans directly in the incineration bin, you look... sticky. Put anything else you want to keep in a trash bag and please don't touch anything that's clean."
"I loved these jeans. I'll miss them."
"They looked good on you, but this slit-up-the-whole-thigh look is also very attractive. It shows off your underwear nicely."
"You don't happen to have some sweat pants here?"
"Of course not, but I'll see what I can do. Any preferences about shoes?"
"Boots, not pumps. No spiked heels, please. These heels killed my pants and I've had enough trouble for one day."
"I will find something practical."
"Make sure whatever you get matches the collar."
- R&I -
Jane went into the shower with a can of dark green goop instead of orange Jane-soap, and spent twenty minutes scrubbing grease out of her skin. Luckily just the tips of her hair had brushed the floor and she could get the crud off it with less trouble. The left leg and her hands had been deep in the stuff with bodyweight on top, and it stuck hard to her skin. When she felt reasonably clean she stepped out of the shower wrapped in more blue towels and found new clothes, and Maura, sitting on Maura's desk.
"You bought leather pants."
"They match the jacket and the collar. The set was a bargain."
"Is this the same T-shirt?"
"No, I bought a new one. No point in trying to get the grease out of the first one." Jane realized that Maura had used Shock as a one-stop-shop to save time. The bra had survived, but the panties were a new pair out of the five-set.
The boots were some kind of feminine version of combat boots with a discreet heel - but still a heel - and steel toes. Since they needed breaking in, Maura had bought thicker socks to keep them from rubbing her feet raw.
"Do you realize the only thing I'm still wearing from this morning is the collar? Once I get dressed now, everything on my body has been bought by you."
"I can't help that you are tough on your clothes, but at least these won't tear. And I think it's very nice that you are dressed by me. It fits the owner motif." Maura smiled.
"Oh joy. Wait a second, you never checked my old clothes. Do you have my sizes memorized?"
Maura just looked at her. Obviously she did. And with a start Jane realized that she could have done the same thing. She could have bought a complete set of clothes for Maura without bringing notes. The difference would be that they would cost a fraction and just look like clothes while anything Maura bought looked stunning. Still, she knew Maura's sizes. She even knew the irritating differences between different makes when designers disagreed about what a number meant in real life. Hmmm.
Jane grabbed her underwear and T-shirt and made a quick detour through the shower room again, coming out semi-dressed. In addition to the bruises on her back, she now had a palm-sized blue splotch over the left hip and blue-ish, sore and stiff elbows. Maura gave her another misting with the analgesic.
Jane put on the all-new set of leathers and walked a couple of laps around Maura's office. The jacket was short, almost a cross between a bolero and a biker jacket, and the sleeves were unusually long due to designer preferences so she unzipped and rolled them to below the elbows. The pants were tight, but not uncomfortable. The cut was weird, and Maura helpfully explained that it was a variation on riding breeches. The design was intended to keep the seat from stretching and losing shape when the wearer sat down. Jane spent a few seconds decoding this.
"You bought pants specifically designed to showcase my ass and stay as tight as possible?!"
"I bought pants designed to look nice for more than a few weeks. It's just a sound investment."
"Are you colluding with Assman?"
"I need no outside influence to enjoy looking at your ass, you should know that by now. Now please stand still while I preserve this moment." Maura grabbed a camera off her desk.
"Why?"
"Because I think it will be some time before I see you in this ensemble again and I want to be able to enjoy it whenever I'm in the mood."
"No 'me master you pet' argument?"
"No, I'm being serious now. Would you please do this for me?" Of course she would. Maura could ask her for an eyeball and she would give it without hesitation.
It became a short version of the evidence photo session, with Jane slowly turning and Maura taking a lot of pictures from all angles while Jane felt her blush slowly deepening.
"...and a final one, please lean forward a little over the desk."
"You have got to be kidding!"
"When I'm an old and lonely cat-lady this picture will be my favorite memory of the one I lost!"
"What makes you think you'll lose me?"
"Your job." Suddenly there was a catch in Maura's voice and Jane turned in alarm to face her.
"Maura, I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be here." Maura was tearing up and Jane was powerless to stop it. She wrapped her arms around her and just held her for comfort.
"Hey, I promise I'll be careful and I won't leave you. We'll have those cats together." Maura sniffled on the verge of really crying.
"I called Frost while you were in the shower. He told me you could have died in that garage."
"Frost has a big mouth. He was right there with a gun in his hand to make sure nothing happened to me. He scared off the bad guy. We called for backup instead of rushing after him. I'm trying to stay safe, I'm planning for our long life together."
"You are?" Jane was equally surprised. I am? Since when? But looking back, it was the truth. She had been taking a lot fewer risks lately. Huh.
"I am. I really mean it."
"Thank you." Maura sniffed again and finally hugged her back. They stood still, just holding on and enjoying the safety and warmth of the embrace for a few minutes, relaxing. "Can I please take that picture?"
"Oh for gods' sake! Yes, you can take a picture of my ass to save for your old age. That picture had better not turn into a christmas card or end up on the internet!"
"Who would I send a smutty christmas card to?"
"I have found three people today who would probably like one. Four, actually. At the end of the day I'm standing here in the tightest pants I've ever worn, and you are taking a portrait of my ass. This is the weirdest day ever." Jane complained, but she bent over the desk and posed like any good friend would do for her LLBFF. She even curved her back a little and stretched her legs to put some sauce into it. Maura hummed happily and clicked away with the camera. She would make an effort later to find out who the fourth person was and decide if they deserved a special card.