Author's Musings: Hi guys! So this is the first attempt at this fandom that I am satisfied with enough to actually publish. I've had a hard time writing from either Jane or Maura's perspective, because the characters are more that a decade older than me, I have a hard time identifying. Anyways, so I'm writing this from a perspective that I am more comfortable with. I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

I would just like to thank Colormetheworld for your amazing story The Moment, I hope you are reading this, I was inspired by your story, it helped me think of this. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rizzoli and Isles, Shannon is of my own creating.

Hi. I'm here to tell you about the two most amazing people I've ever known: my moms. If you're from Boston, you've probably heard of them, one is the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts (I always just say she's the head boss of the dead people, but she doesn't like that), and my other mom was the youngest woman to ever make detective in the Boston PD, took down one of the most dangerous serial killers ever, and was the first female detective to ever work in Homicide. Of course, now she runs the place as Lt., the youngest female Lieutenant in the Boston Police Department history, not that she likes to be reminded of that, it's a recent promotion and I think she's freaking out. So who am I? I'm Shannon Isles-Rizzoli, the fourteen-year-old daughter of Dr. Maura Isles-Rizzoli, and Lt. Jane Isles-Rizzoli. No, I'm not their biological daughter, they adopted me when I was ten, but they are my parents, the only ones I got, and I think they are pretty cool. That's why I'm writing about them in this essay, because you asked me about my heroes, and here they are. I guess I should start from when I met them, four years ago last week.

Growing up in the foster system is no fun. Bouncing around homes, constantly changing schools and friends, it gets exhausting. At first you fight it, you get upset when you leave the first foster home, even though the mom lady was mean and only gave you gross bargain brand cereal and you shared your room with three other girls, but it was yours, and since the only thing that is yours is your small suitcase of clothes and your stuffed teddy bear they gave you at the hospital when you fell and broke your arm when you were three, and that home, you fight it. You cry and scream and for God's sakes, you're only four and a half, you don't want to go to somewhere scary and new, even though the government people tell you it will be better, a bigger house with a nicer mom and your own room. Of course, they lied, you still share your room, but this time its with the monster that lives in your closet. And then right after your fifth birthday they move you, again, and this time you still scream and cry, but a little less than last time.

By the time I was ten I had been in almost as many foster homes, and seen the full spectrum of humanity. I had had nice foster parents and mean ones, and everything in between. Lived in nice big houses in good neighborhoods with schools that served fruit and salad with lunch, and lived in cramped apartments in not-so-great neighborhoods where my lullaby at night was the sounds of police sirens and yelling. Those homes always lasted longer than I would have liked, and the nice homes with my own room and a big bed were always too short. In the beginning changing homes had simply been because of the system, but as I got older it was usually my fault, causing trouble with the other kids or my foster parents. By the time I met Maura and Jane I had been in my third home that year. It wasn't my fault that the other kids at the home teased me, calling me scarecrow and string bean. It wasn't my fault that at ten years old I was taller than most middle schoolers, that the last few months had been nothing but constant growing pains, and that none of my clothes fit right anymore because the newest piece of clothing I owned was a hand-me-down Red Sox shirt from last Christmas, almost four inches ago. But still, since I was the one who threw the first punch, I was the one getting thrown out.

I had barely gotten used to the newest home when Jane and Maura came to see me. I didn't know what was going on, no one had come to see if they wanted to adopt me since I was four. After that I was no longer a cute little baby, and potential adopters only want babies. Not damaged ten-year-old who are constantly getting into fights and knocking stuff over because they don't know where the ends of their limbs are. But one Saturday I woke up to my latest foster mom rushing me out of bed, herding me to the bathroom to shower, laying out my best clothes for me to wear, the ones I saved for picture day or meetings with my case worker. A faded yellow polo shirt and jeans that had no holes in them, and almost reached my ankles. Once I was clean and clothed, my foster mom, Cecelia I think her name was, ushered my downstairs, saying there were some very important people who wanted to meet me. As I walked down the stairs, still rubbing sleep from my eyes, I saw two very pretty ladies standing at the bottom of the stairs. One had honey-blonde hair and kind blue eyes, slightly crinkled with her smile, and the other woman was taller, with curly brown hair like mine, and intense brown eyes. My caseworker, Emily was there too, standing behind the women.

"Shannon, honey, these are the people I was telling you about" Cecilia said. The woman with the blonde hair came up to me first, still smiling. It was such a genuine smile, I couldn't help but smile back, though my shyness kept it small.

"Hi Shannon, I'm Maura, and this is my wife Jane" the lady said, Jane giving me a small wave

"Nice to meet you Shannon" Jane said. I held out my hand stiffly, like my caseworker had told me to when meeting grownups

"Nice to meet you" I said, shaking first Maura's hand, then Jane's. Maura's hands were so soft, softer than my teddy bear had been the first day I got him. Jane's were rougher, and I noticed a small scar on the back of her hand, as well as feeling the match on her palm. They looked at each other, and a little wrinkle appeared on Jane's forehead. I panicked for a minute, grown-ups usually do that when I've done something wrong. But then they both turned back to me, and smiled.

"Why don't we go sit in the living room and all get to know each other, shall we?" Emily said, putting her hand on my shoulder and guiding me into the living room. We sat on one couch while Maura and Jane sat opposite us on the loveseat. Watching them sit practically on top of each other, Maura leaning into Jane, hands entwined, it finally hit me that Maura had introduced Jane as her wife. So they were married. But they were both women.

"How are you married?" I asked. I heard Emily gasp, and Cecilia, who had sat down on the armchair to the left of the couch I was on, suddenly looked nervous. I saw the wrinkle come out in Jane's forehead again, and I realized I must have done something wrong again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do anything wrong" I rushed out, hoping they wouldn't get mad. Maura, who was directly across from me, reached out her hand and rested it on my knee

"Oh honey, you didn't do anything wrong. Jane and I are married because we love each other." Jane nodded in agreement.

"But I thought girls only married boys" I said, still confused.

"They usually do, but sometimes girls marry girls, and boys marry boys. It's perfectly normal" Maura spoke to me the same way she spoke to Cecilia and Emily, like I was a grown up. Nobody had ever talked to me that way before. It made me really think about what she was saying, and I pursed my lips while I absorbed the new information. When I was done, I nodded my head.

"OK. So why are you here?" I asked, and I heard Emily sigh in relief. I'm not really sure why, but I was focused on Maura and Jane. Jane answered this time

"Well Shannon, since Maura and I are married we decided we wanted children, and since its only the two of us, we thought adopting would be a good idea." Jane also talked to me like a grown-up, and her eyes never left mine while we were talking. I felt like she could see into my soul, but instead of being scared, it made my heart warm. Which was a weird feeling. I was still confused

"So why are you here? There's no babies here, only big kids" Again, that wrinkle in Jane's forehead. Maura answered me this time

"Jane and I talked about it, and we decided that we would rather adopt an older child, since we know that babies get adopted very quickly, and an older child has less of a chance to get adopted."

I nodded my head "OK." I still didn't really get it, but I didn't really care. We continued talking for a little longer, Jane asked me if I liked sports, and her eyes lit up when I said I liked the Red Sox. We talked about that for a while, then about school, what my favorite subjects were, and so on. We talked for so long, finally it was time for lunch, and for Maura and Jane to go.

"Can we come see you tomorrow Shannon?" Maura asked, standing in the doorway, Jane holding open the door. I nodded my head,

"I would like that" I said, smiling. "Can you bring Joe Friday?" in the course of our talking I had learned of Jane's little terrier, and I had never really been in close quarters with a dog before, but I thought they were so cute and cuddly looking. Jane smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling a little.

"Sure, I'll bring Joe, if that's ok with Cecilia?" she said, looking to my newest foster mom for approval.

"As long as we keep her in the backyard, it should be fine" Cecilia said, nodding her head. I jumped excitedly.

"Yay, I'm so excited!" I said, smiling at Maura and Jane, who smiled back. "See you tomorrow!"

"We'll see you tomorrow Shannon" Maura said. After saying our goodbyes, I looked to Emily.

"Are they gonna be my new moms?" I asked Emily. I trusted Emily, she was the only constant in my life, and she always answered me honestly. She smiled at me, the lines at the corners of her mouth deeper than I remembered.

"Would you like them to be your new moms?" she asked

"Oh yes, they are so nice, and they have a dog and a turtle!" I nodded my head, smiling at the older woman. Emily's smile deepened, and her eyes were shining like they were wet, almost like right before you start crying. Why would Emily be crying? Grown-ups don't cry.

"Well, they might be your new moms baby girl, just maybe."

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