Author's note: welcome over here for the series of one shots until NYE; daily updates as usual and reviews more than appreciated.

Story One: Red Lingerie on Interstate 90

Jane Rizzoli might have never liked celebrating New Year's Eve, she hadn't imagined either that she would spend it one day stuck on the Interstate 90 between Fenway Park and Back Bay and going from one car to another in order to check whatever was left of unlucky drivers after a terrible accident had happened there.

She owed such situation to the mafia.

A double homicide that had finished in a pile-up thus sparing her an endless evening at home with her parents talking about nothing but ex-classmates who had got married or given birth while she was still single.

Huddled against her padded jacket – an oversized one – she gladly accepted the cup of coffee that one of her colleagues had brought her. The ballet of sirens and lights in the darkness of the night offered a singular yet beautiful scenery; if it weren't for the blood now absorbed by the asphalt, ambulances – almost quiet – driving away like ballerinas.

Not a single person had survived. They had estimated the amount of casualties to twenty-two people who hadn't been identified yet. The night would be long. The new year gloomy.

"Are you wearing red lingerie?"

The question made her choke on her hot drink. Taken aback and slightly scared, the detective turned her head around to stare at the woman who had formulated such inquiry.

Dr. Maura Isles, the new Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

A rather good-looking yet strange woman in her mid-thirties Jane had met at the Division One Cafe a couple of days before. She hadn't forgotten the hilarious awkwardness of their conversation nor the unique misunderstanding of the whole situation.

Jane cast a glance around. The context wasn't particularly appropriate for a joke and - in all honesty - she had a hard time believing that the scientist was in the mood to make any.

"Excuse me?"

Cheerfully – holding a cup of tea in her leather-gloved hands – the honey blonde approached Jane and leaned against the car as well to have a full view over the scene.

"Rizzoli.. I am going to assume that you have Italian roots. The tradition wants that Italians wear red underwear on December, 31st to bring good luck and keep away bad energy for the new year that has to come."

Jane frowned, still not much reassured by the explanation. It surely was the first time that a medical examiner asked her such personal question.

The honey blonde was pretty much still a stranger to her. It was the first time they actually worked together.

A bit uncertain yet eager to not let go so easily of the unexpected conversation, the Italian squinted her eyes at her interlocutor and pouted.

"Maura Isles, right?"

The scientist nodded and tended her hand for a handshake. Jane obliged; forcing a smile on her lips. They would work a lot together so she'd better make sure they got along. If that was ever possible.

Her background history with the medical examiner's office wasn't glorious so far.

"As much as my grandmother was born in Sicilia, I'm afraid that I don't stick up much to such err... To such New Year's Eve tradition. How about you?" Jane turned red like a brick as she realized – a bit too late, though – what she had just asked.

To the chief medical examiner of all people. On a car crash scene. But the blonde didn't seem troubled by the question. She looked peaceful; oddly serene in the middle of such chaos.

"I don't have Italian roots. Irish, mostly. And French, although my parents now live in Switzerland; near Zurich."

A rookie passed by. Jane smiled briefly at him before focusing back on the woman standing next to her. She crossed her arms against her chest as the wind began to blow harder.

"And no traditions, there? I refuse to believe Italy's the only European country that has some."

The medical examiner shook her head vehemently before a light laugh passed her lips. She focused on her shoes; twelve-inch stilettos. Expensive ones.

"Of course not. Every single country – all around the world – has its way to celebrate the new year. It goes innately with the development of cultures. It is basic sociology... That being said, I dislike it. I dislike New Year's Eve... Don't take my upcoming confession the wrong way but I am actually quite glad to be here, tonight."

Jane giggled and emptied her cup of coffee. The last ambulance had just left. The scene was almost clear, now. Soon, the darkness would fall back on the road almost as if nothing had happened.

"No worries, I definitely see what you mean." She hadn't meant to sound sarcastic but her tone did not reflect any other feeling.

"Does it make you feel nostalgic as well? As a child, I didn't celebrate it much. My parents did but I was not invited to the party. I was supposed to stay in my room for the rest of the night. I guess it is mostly synonym to boredom and loneliness to me, now. A terrible assimilation, obviously."

"I hope your shrink sends you a greeting card every year."

Confused, Maura abandoned the contemplation of her shoes to lock her eyes with the detective's. A twinkle in Jane's gaze made her smile in spite of her incomprehension.

"How so?"

The homicide detective shrugged and barely repressed a laugh. If the new medical examiner was that literal, she would have a blast during upcoming autopsies.

"You sound like the kind of patients thanks to who shrinks can afford a house in the Adirondacks."

"Whom." Maura paused – not really upset by the remark – and bit her lower lip. "Thanks to whom, not who. My therapist put an end to our collaboration when I was fourteen."

"What happened?"

Someone brought a couple of papers to Maura. She signed them – authorizing her team to leave – and scheduled the autopsies for the next morning. A few seconds passed by before she answered the detective's question properly.

"She assumed I had gone as far as I was supposed to. Therapies don't last forever..."

The note of regret in the medical examiner's voice made Jane frown. For some reason, she hadn't liked it at all. It had made her heart hurt a bit. Empathy at its best for someone she didn't know.

A first.

"You can go back home, Rizzoli. We're done. Or to your parents'. If so, tell hi to your mom for me and thank her again for the homemade cookies." Korsak winked at the brunette then nodded a bit timidly at the medical examiner. "See you tomorrow, Dr. Isles."

"Autopsies start at 8.30!" The moan coming from Jane made Maura pause. She turned her head around, questioned her colleague with big hazel eyes. A few seconds passed by before she nodded with that same enthusiasm she had showed when arriving on scene. "9.30..."

Korsak smiled and went back to his car before driving away. As she watched him leave, Jane cast a brief glance around and realized that the last members of the BPD were getting dispatched all over the city.

She and Maura were the only ones who hadn't moved yet as if eager to make it last.

Oddly enough.

"Are you from Boston?"

Jane nodded and straightened up with pride.

"Born and raise. How about you?"

The medical examiner seemed to hesitate. She wasn't at ease talking about her origins, apparently. The detail piqued the detective's curiosity.

"I was born here as well but moved to Europe almost immediately after my birth. I grew up there... Between Paris and Lausanne, mainly."

"And now you're back, here. That's one way to celebrate your roots, see?" A laugh accompanied her remark, soon followed by a friendly smile.

Maura was a bit strange but she liked it. There was something sweet about her, an odd strength that seemed to melt at times in pure fragility. But most of all, Jane thought that she was glowing. A very caring person, very much alive in spite of the singularity of her job position.

"I suppose we can say so, indeed."

The words barely had time to pass Maura's lips that a loud explosion made them turn around and look up at the sky. All of a sudden, Boston succumbed to a rainbow of colors lighting up the river, the buildings.

Fireworks. This time, the celebrations had really begun.

"Happy New Year, Maura Isles." Fascinated by the scenery like a child, Jane let a timid smile play on her lips.

The blonde closed her eyes and took a big - satisfied - breath.

"Happy New Year, Jane Rizzoli."

Alone on a cut Interstate 90 as the last patrol car had finally left, both women remained there, leaned against the detective's car observing in silence the fireworks in the night.

All of a sudden, the honey blonde bent over to reduce the distance with the brunette.

"I am not Italian but I have to admit that I am wearing red lingerie."

Jane turned her head around and stared for a few seconds at Maura; in disbelief.

Then she burst out laughing.