A/N: This is a bittersweet fanfic idea I'd written for the Rizzles FB group that was not chosen as a contender so I will share it with you all. It is beautifully painful and I hope you enjoy. If you do? Please drop a review? Thank you and enjoy.

"You got exactly what you wanted," the woman's voice was softer with her years, though it had always been soft. "Stubborn, even until the end." She held the lifeless hand vowing not to let go until the police arrived. She'd set the bedroom up in haste but made sure she'd moved all her items to the second bedroom.

In 1959, it wasn't uncommon for sweet, widowed older women to live together. People just assumed it was companionship and company. In truth, neither woman had been married, at least not to men. And until that very moment, neither wore the title of 'widow' until now. As much as Maura Isles wanted to break down and cry she knew right then she couldn't. Police wouldn't understand why a woman would cry so violently over a friend as she knew she was likely to do.

The doorbell rang and slightly startled her out of her thoughts. She gently set Jane's hand on her chest before going to the door. "Hello, officer. My friend is this way," she motioned. The man didn't look a day over 20 if Maura had to guess, which she never did.

"Y-yes, ma'am," he nervously followed behind.

"Is this your first dead body, officer?" Maura softly questioned

.

He gripped the rim of his cap and blushed as he nodded. "Yes ma'am, it is." He looked around the house seeing no signs of a fight or disarray.

"Just take a deep breath. We all die. It is part of life." Being clinical was how Maura maintained herself for the time being.

"Yes ma'am," he nodded and did so as Maura turned the doorknob and opened the room. His eyes quickly fell to the woman in the bed. She was dressed in a stiff nightgown that didn't seem to suit her. Raven locks had been peppered with white and grey due to time. Wrinkles and lines splashed across the landscape of her face, telling stories of a life lived. "This is," he looked at his note pad. "Jane Rizzoli?"

Maura nodded. "Born November 15, 1897 in Genoa, Italy."

The young officer made the notation on his pad. "Was there any recent upset or issue?" He made note there looked to be no signs of wounds.

"No. It seems just a heart attack. For as fit as she seemed she loved her bacon," Maura wistfully smiled. "And beer," she nodded.

"Sure. Sounds right. The coroner will be here soon to get the body. Is there any family we need to contact?"

Maura shook her head. "No, I've got that covered. Thank you for your time, officer."

The man nodded. "He should be by soon. The scene looks safe so I'll get back to the station and work on my report."

With that Maura showed the man to the door. It felt like a lifetime before everyone was out of the house, including Jane. She pulled Jane's pillow to her, hugging tightly and finally let herself cry. "Damn you. Why did you have to leave me," her body shook as her sobs were almost violent.

It was nearing midnight when Maura woke. She had cried herself to sleep. She reached for the light and turned it on. As she came to, suddenly she realized. "You couldn't do it, could you?" She took the picture frame from her bedside table, looking at Jane's smiling face. "You couldn't be brave without me, could you?" She kissed the frame before setting it back on the table.

Given the late hour there wouldn't be anything good on the radio to listen to. She'd read her latest favorite novel. Part of Maura thought to bring her things back into the bedroom but really she knew she'd be seeing Jane again soon. Well, that was a complicated issue for her actually.

Jane had been raised devoutly Catholic. Maura's father, conversely, was a science professor and her mother was a grand Parisian artist. Neither relied on Religion for anything except topics of conversation with which to annoy religiously-inclined people.

From everything Maura could find factually, there was no evidence or proof of God or Heaven but now, losing the only person that mattered, her heart ached to believe.

Maura wandered over to their closet and found something odd. There was a loose floorboard on Jane's side. "Why haven't I noticed that before?" She questioned herself as she bent down. As the wooden piece moved Maura noticed underneath was a box. She gently lifted it up and took it over to the bed. "I feel like I shouldn't violate Jane's privacy but I can't help wanting to look." She nervously bit her inner lip as she opened the well-worn box. Inside were stacks and stacks of leather bound diaries. Each had a year neatly sown on the front. She ran her hand over, smiling. "You said you'd never use this," she looked at the first one, 1923. Maura had given it to Jane their first Christmas.

"Maur, it's sweet and all but a little dizzy. It's gonna be '24 before long. Not even a week!" Jane pointed out.

"I know that, sweetheart. This is to chronicle your previous year. There's another one in the box if you see for next year?" Maura smiled.

"Still say it's a dizzy gift," Jane grinned and kissed her. "I'd have been happy with that phonograph and you dancing in my arms all night."

"Oh I will, Jane. I will," Maura grinned.

She smiled and opened the diary.

I don't really know how to start this. 'Dear diary' seems silly since you're not really a person. I felt like I should start with the first of the year but really, things didn't get good until June. I'd scrimped and saved enough to go on that vacation to Paris I'd always dreamed of. That's where I meet that egg, Maura. I'd gone into one of those special joints for people like me. I was all kinds of nervous.

As Maura read, she could see the scene in her head perfectly. Maura's hair was swept back and her gloved finger toyed over her wine glass. Women were dancing with women to the latest in style tune. Many were lovely but they didn't really catch her attention. Of course, then walked in the stunning, olive-skinned beauty. She walked with a confidence that commanded attention and didn't falter. She headed straight for the bar and smiled to Maura.

"Do you speak English?"

Maura smiled and nodded. "As well as you do."

Jane's smile grew bigger. "Oh thank God! I knew a trip to France would be exciting but it's so hard not speakin the language!"

"I bet. I wouldn't know off hand. My mother is French so I speak English and French with ease. As well as Italian, Portuguese, German and Russian."

Jane looked surprised. "Wow, aren't you a regular Library?"

Maura chuckled. "Well, I do like to study. I'm leaning toward following a career in medicine."

"That's great. Do you have a gasper, by chance?"

"I don't smoke. One moment. Oh, and what would you like to drink?"

Jane thought for a moment. "Do they have a regular beer or somethin?"

Maura waved for the bartender and relayed the request for a beer and cigarettes. He produced both and she further instructed him. "Enjoy. It's on my tab."

"Wow, thanks. That's swell of ya." Jane looked around seeing all the dancing couples. "Can I take you for a spin?"

Maura set her glass down and smiled. "I'd love to."

Jane easily spun and led them in a few turns around the floor. She leaned in and whispered, "You're a real choice bit of calico, you know that?"

For a moment Maura was going to be offended but then she quickly remembered the slang term and blushed. "You're not so bad yourself."

The night went on in a beautiful haze. A few more drinks and they were headed off to Maura's chateau. They sat on the davenport, drinking and discussing their lives in the states and where they wanted to go. In no time Maura was sure Jane had her heart.

While the woman exuded confidence, she didn't make one move to get into Maura's bed that night. They'd fallen asleep awkwardly on Maura's davenport.

Maura stopped reading and headed to take her shower. 'It is terminal, Ms. Isles. There's nothing more we can do. It's in God's hands now,' the uncaring doctors words resounded in her head as she started the shower. End stage ovarian cancer. All they could do was give her enough medication to kill a horse in order to keep her pain away. She'd made up her mind. "You said one day before me, Jane. You'd better be there waiting or else. And not hanging onto Agnes Goldfine! I remember how you used to eye her up," she said aloud as she bathed.

'I am not looking at her, silly! I've got the prettiest gal in the room. Why would I want to trifle my time looking at anything else?' Jane's voice was low so no one else in the diner could hear.

'Still, Jane Rizzoli. Don't think I don't see your eyes wander every now and then! I swear you get like a cat in heat at times.'

Under the table Jane reached for Maura's hand and squeezed it. 'I'm lookin thinkin their poor fella's don't have a dime on me when I've got you near me.'

Maura blushed and her hazel eyes shown with emotion. 'You've always been a charmer, Jane Rizzoli.'

She finished her shower and wrapped in a towel. It seemed silly since this would be her last night on earth but Maura still went over and brushed her teeth. She also worked at fixing her now-washed hair into a nice bun. If she was going out, she'd go out as she'd lived; in style.

Maura went to the second bedroom and retrieved her outfit. It was one of Jane's favorites. Just a simple skirt and top with a nice jacket. She chuckled to herself thinking back.

'You'd make Jackie Kennedy green, I swear,' Jane grinned as she sipped her beer looking at Maura in the outfit for the first time.

'You're a terrible flirt and I love it.' She leaned over and kissed Jane deeply. They'd shared so many kisses and moments over the years but each was as special and unique as the last.

Jane grinned slyly kissing back. 'I know you do cus you're a little minx.'

'I'm an old woman now, Jane. I can't be a minx.' Maura insisted.

'The hell you can't.'

Maura drew her hand over the jacket one more time making sure it laid perfectly. She slipped on a pair of panty hose and heels before she sat at her desk to compose a letter.

To whomever finds my body,

I am nurse Maura Isles. My partner of over thirty years, Jane Rizzoli, preceded me in passing last night. She was my heart and reason for living. As I have terminal cancer anyway, I am choosing to end my life tonight and hopefully hurry home to her. I do not care what people think of us. Our community has known us for these many years as great friends. We were always there to help others without question and harmed no one. Just because we loved one another instead of men didn't make us less capable of helping, did it? It didn't make us monsters. We never tried luring women or girls. We didn't sacrifice animals. We were simply two women who loved each other in a way this world could not understand.

Sincerely,

Maura Isles-Rizzoli

After she finished her letter, she took a handful of pain medication and washed it down with a gin and tonic. She moved the ring she had to wear around others from her right ring finger back to her left. She smiled and closed her eyes.

It was summer. Warm air was wafting over the meadow. Looking down her dress was a flowy yellow that seemed fitted more for a younger woman. Looking at her own hands Maura realized she was a younger woman. Maybe in her 30s if she had to guess.

"Maura? Aren't you coming?" She heard the low voice calling her.

"J-Jane?" She looked around frantically.

"We're gonna be late. I swear you look perfect."

She spotted her and began running toward her wife, tears flowing down her face. "I-I thought I'd never see you again."

Jane opened her arms, hugging Maura and spinning her around. "I promised forever, remember? I never break a promise."

When Maura hadn't arrived at her friend Hattie's house for tea the next day the woman went over nervously. The car was in the driveway but Maura didn't answer her phone or the door. Fearing the worst, Hattie called the police.

That same young officer who had been by about Jane came out. Having no other choice he broke a window pane on the door and let himself in. "Ms Isles?" he called out. "Ms Isles? It's Officer Frost. I was here yesterday about your friend." Still hearing nothing he went further into the house. Getting to the bedrooms, the one he assumed was Maura's had no one in it. He stopped at the room he'd found Jane in the morning before. The door was cracked. Slowly he opened it.

To anyone else it would have looked like a nicely dressed older woman taking a nap. "Ms Isles?" Officer Frost called. He moved to her and realized right away the woman was dead. He searched the room and saw the pills and high ball glass on the night stand. There was also a piece of paper he picked up. Looking over the words he thought about what he was reading. She had been a very understanding woman with him. And if his own wife had died, he knew he couldn't keep anything together. Suddenly he realized how hard that all must have been. Losing the person you loved and having no one to share that with. Everyone thinking she'd just lost her friend.

He folded the letter and put it in his pocket knowing no one else would understand. They'd condemn the woman they didn't know as a freak or weirdo. "It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Isles-Rizzoli," the officer said gently. "I hope you two are happily together." He went to the hall and picked up the phone to dial the death into the station.

"Dad, what's this?" the woman held a letter to her father. "Who's Maura Isles?"

Barry smiled. "Remember when you came home from college in '92 and you were real nervous to tell me about Lisa?"

His daughter thought back and nodded.

"Well, Maura taught me you weren't any different for loving Lisa and if I loved you any less, I'd be the different one. Come have a seat and I'll tell you the story."

The woman nodded and moved to sitting next to her father.