Before I begin…. Nothing belongs to me. The characters belong to their rightful owners.

ONE

Maura rolled to her side not all surprised to find the spot beside her empty. Through the darkness of her room, she spotted the silhouette of a long and lean figure slipping back into clothes that had been carelessly shed before their flurry of passion in bed. The light of the moon seeping through her window shone onto the contours of the strong physique that could easily rival that of any Greek deity known to man.

She whimpered softly. Her tired body was extremely tender, as it always was after a tumble in the sheets with the only individual that could bring her so far up into the clouds. The door to her bedroom closed and shortly after, the telltale sound of the garage doors opening and engine coming to life told Maura her guest was officially gone. It was a familiar routine. Rolling onto her back, her heavy lids fluttered closed and she immediately fell into a slumber filled with dreams of her visitor.

It was never weird or uncomfortable when they were in the same room. While she performed an autopsy on their latest victim, her secret lover did nothing more than observe and inquire about evidence. They conversed in a professional manner as they always would, and parted ways, continuing on with their day as usual. In the eyes of others, Maura Isles was the stoic, confident and regal woman who spent most of her time in the morgue, hardly conversing with others except about work. They called her the Queen of the Dead. In their eyes, she was unattainable – cold and utterly withdrawn and so far out of reach. She's the beauty that no man could ever dream of claiming for their own. She's the woman who was constantly the centre of attention after walking into a room and yet, they were afraid to make the first move, in fear of not being able to engage in adequate intellectual conversation. It was the brains and beauty that had them gaping with open mouths and drool dripping from their chins like fools.

Jane Rizzoli on the other hand, was on a whole different level of intimidation, with shoulders always squared, chin held high and a walk filled with swagger, she was the epitome of what females in law enforcement strove to be. Any perpetrator unfortunate enough to end up in an interview room with the her came out spluttering a full confession from quivering lips, or desperately spilling the beans on comrades. She's the woman who always got to the point, continuously got her way, never wasted valuable time, and was all business. She was envied, feared, loathed, and yet, well respected. Men and women alike fell for the fearless, outspoken, and sometimes reckless charm.

Standing in a room with the two very different women, one would only see two colleagues working for the same goal. As far as they knew, Maura Isles and Jane Rizzoli were mere acquaintances that worked together– and they were partially correct. During work hours, conversations were filled with information on the latest case and nothing more. They did not engage in small talk about the weather or in banal chitchat.

As far as the public was concerned, they moved in two very different worlds. Maura Isles, the dignified MD, adopted into a family with vast riches and Jane Rizzoli, born from a blue-collar Italian plumber and his housewife. Their lives were complete parallels with only one similarity binding them together: The act of serving justice.

One would never suspect that when convenient, they ended up in a tangle of limbs, sweating, panting, and writhing in pure bliss. They were not an item nor were they friends with benefits. They were just two women who worked together, who secretly channeled all their stress and frustration into sweet caresses, allowing them to forget about life for a few hours. And that was it. There was no pillow talk, no sleepovers – the only words spoken were during their escapades were the dirty phrases moaned, whimpered, screamed, as they climbed higher and higher together, and the guttural cries to a deity they once believed in as they reached orgasm.

"Jesus, Rizzoli. You look like hell. Try a little makeup sometime." Detective Crowe threw at her as he passed by her desk on the way to a filing cabinet.

"Ain't nothing compared to you. You put on enough makeup for the both of us, pretty boy." She threw back idly as she kept typing away on her computer, finalizing her case file for Cavanaugh.

There was an eruption of laughter from the other detectives in the room and both Jane and Crowe smirked at one another. If this had been when she first made homicide, she'd be in an all out verbal match with him. But after showing her worth to everyone in BPD, they had finally welcomed her with open arms. Her 92% closing rate spoke for itself and gradually, the sexist comments died down. Especially since she was a force to be reckoned with.

"I do have a killer headache though." Jane hit the print button and grabbed her blazer. She glanced at the clock. 9:40pm. "You mind handing this to Cavanaugh, Frost?"

"Yeah, I got this Jane." Frost smiled, "You always work the hardest. Try and catch up on some Z's. I'll see you on Monday."

The first thing she did every time she came home was secure her weapon in its usual spot in her bedside table drawer. She walked to her en suite, leaving a trail of clothing in her wake and stepped into the walk-in shower. Within moments, the hot pelts of water eased the throbbing in her temples. Jane sighed. There was nothing more she looked forward to than her bed and being able to sleep the weekend away. Getting out of the shower, she opened up the medicine cabinet and drank a tablet of Extra Strength Tylenol with a few gulps of tap water. She continued on to brush her teeth, mind filled with thoughts of her bed.

By the time she had dressed in a tank top and pajama bottoms, the painkillers effects kicked in and she was feeling light – as if she weighed a little less and gravity had a bit of a hard time grounding her. Thank god for drugs. Turning off the lamp next to her, the room fell into darkness, welcoming her into its embrace. She closed her eyes and it did not take long for her body to calm and her mind to slowly teeter along into the realm of dreams.

Jane gave a start at the sound of her bedroom door clicking shut. Instinctively, she reached for the inside of her drawer and grasped her gun. Every time she heard sounds in the darkness, she imagined Hoyt hovering over her with a scalpel in hand. Even when he was no longer a threat to her, her mind was always on alert, filled with thoughts of him. One can never escape their demons easily. She was always on edge when she was without her weapon. Only when she felt the cool metal in her hands, or felt the weight holstered at her hip, did she feel safe.

She slackened the grip on her gun at the familiar scent that immediately rocked her senses. A hand gently nudged the weapon out of her hands and it clattered back into the drawer. She was pushed back onto her mattress, the weight of the intruder's soft body melding against her own with ease. A searching mouth sought hers in the darkness and Jane returned the kiss. She felt wetness against her cheeks and paused. Taking hold of the other woman's waist, she whispered against moist lips, "You all right there, Doc?"

"I'm fine." Maura claimed the questioning mouth and shoved her hands under Jane's tank top, slowly squeezing a firm breast. She then moved her lips against the brunette's ear, "I need you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me hard."

Jane shivered. Who was she to deny this woman's request? She flipped them over and initiated a lip-bruising kiss.

Within moments clothes were discarded. Heated skin flush against each other, sweating. Maura was begging for the release and Jane teased the throbbing clit endlessly. The muscles in her arm were beginning to strain but it was a feeling she was so accustomed to and she welcomed the burn.

"Please." Maura whimpered against her slick neck. "Please. I need you inside me. God…. Fuck me." She bucked her hips forward desperately.

In a flash, their favourite toy was strapped around her and Jane took her time teasing the head up and down Maura's clit and entrance. "How badly do you want me inside of you?" She asked with the dildo a few inches inside the blonde.

"So badly. Please." Maura wrapped her legs around the trim waist roughly, effectively pushing the dildo in. She let out a strangled moan as it sunk so deep into her.

Jane took no time and pumped in and out of the blonde who thrashed beneath her wildly. Maura's hips met hers with each thrust, skin slapping loudly at the escalating movement. Sweat trickled down her brow and she knew Maura was close; her screams of pleasure were getting louder and fervent. Finally with a long, choked moan she came, stars littering her vision.

Daniel.

It was the name that quietly spilled from Maura's lips and Jane finally understood the reason for the tear stained cheeks. The priest. To make up for all the pain and sadness of not being able to officially be with a man of God, this is the alternative she turned to. It was the only way to cope with the sinful desire of a man so devoted to the church and his faith. "Really? You and him? That's way beyond low, even for you Doc."

"I know." She said softly, tracing a finger up Jane's abdomen and stood up, searching for her clothing in the darkness. "What we have, it's easy. Simple. Uncomplicated." Then she was gone.

Jane lay in the darkness catching her breath and listened to the car drive away.

The incessant ringing of her mobile had her on her feet, searching in a dizzy stupor for the annoying contraption. Finally, she found it in its holster still attached to the pants she wore previously. She brushed curls out of her face. "Rizzoli."

"Janie." Her mother exclaimed cheerfully loud.

Jane winced and her eye twitched in annoyance. Why did she have such an annoying mother? She glanced at the digital readout on the dresser. 6:29 SAT. "Seriously, Ma? You better have a good reason for bothering me at this ungodly hour."

"I knew you'd forget it! It's your weekend off and we had an agreement."

"What agreement?" She ground out.

"That you'd babysit TJ, remember? Tommy, Lydia and I are travelling west for a little getaway and you know – " Angela dropped her voice to a whisper. " – Lydia's mom is kind of…"

"Yeah, I know what you're saying." Jane shook her head. "What time is he going to be dropped off?" She began to pick up the mess of work clothes on the floor and threw them into the hamper.

"Tommy should be there soon."

"What!" Jane stood ramrod straight and scratched her head furiously. Looking down, she took note of how very nude she was. Her sibling seeing her naked was far from what she wanted, especially in the morning. If he had rang the doorbell while she was in bed, she would have gotten up and answered it in a sleepy haze. She shuddered at the thought. "Okay, I'm done. Thanks for stressing me out. Bye now." She hung up before her mom could give her an earful on how she had slaved around the house to feed a family of five, all the while raising three children.

The buzzer chimed and Jane slipped into the tank top and pajama bottoms from last night. She opened the door to see the smiling face of her younger brother. He was obviously happy that he could catch a break from his son's wails and dirty diapers. In his grasp was the all-in-one stroller with TJ in it. Slung on his shoulder was the bag filled with baby stuff. Compared to the last time she saw him, Tommy seemed to have aged. Probably from the endless nights of disturbed sleep caused by the tiny innocent bundle. This is why I'm never having children. "Thank you so much, Janie." He said gratefully.

"Yeah, don't worry about it." She yawned. "Can I just leave him in there if I want to take a shower or do my business?"

"Since you don't have a crib, your best bet is to leave him strapped in there. Please don't drop him." His tone was serious.

A smile touched her lips. My baby brother's all grown up. "Don't worry baby bro. Ma dropped you and you turned out okay." That earned a punch to the arm. "Ow, geez! Go have fun with Ma and Lydia. That should be interesting."

"What do you mean?" He furrowed his brows in a similar fashion that their father did.

"What I'm saying is Lydia being dad's ex- fiancée and all…"

"It's almost been a year since the whole fiasco. Mom's been a real sport about it, saying they should make peace for the family. For TJ. To them, dad was a thing of the past and they kind of bonded over it."

"Wow."

"Right?" Tommy bent forward and kissed his sleeping son on the forehead. "Have fun with Aunt Janie. Make sure she doesn't do anything bad in your presence." His eyes flicked up at his sister to gauge her reaction. He flinched at the stare he received. He let out a nervous chuckle. "I'm just kidding!" He engulfed her in a hug, his muscled arms clutching her tightly. "Thanks again, sis."

They said their goodbyes and when Jane closed the door all she did was stare at TJ. Her eyes stung, signaling her to get herself back to sleep just as her nephew was at the moment. Removing the car seat from the stroller, she hauled it into her room and set it down as gently as possible beside her bed. Just as her head hit the pillow a cry pierced through the air and she groaned. She poked her head over the edge of her bed. He caught sight of her and he stopped and stared in wonder. "It's okay, little buddy." She rubbed his soft stomach.

The moment however, did not last long and he cried loudly with his arms flailing. "Good grief. You got a set of pipes in you. Must be the Rizzoli blood." She got off the bed and removed him from the car seat. After an attempt at cradling him back to sleep, Jane picked up the baby bag and took out the baby formula. She held the container up in the air and carefully read the instructions. How she managed to get a warm bottle of formula for the kid with only one hand available, she wasn't quite sure, but all that mattered to her was to get TJ back to sleep so that she could do the same. Parenthood was looking less appealing by the second.

"There, are you happy?" She bent over to put him back into his carriage, the silence was only brief and he plucked the bottle from his mouth and began to wail again. "Jesus fucking Christ. What do you want from me?" For a good ten minutes she tried to put him back in and received the same result at each attempt. Finally having enough, she plopped down onto her bed in defeat with him on her chest. Surprisingly, he did not make a sound. "Seriously? You wanna sleep on the bed with me?" Even if she was beyond pissed, she really couldn't be mad at her baby nephew. Tommy was just the same when he was born. Angela doted on him since he was the youngest, effectively ignoring both Jane and Frankie. She remembered countless attempts at diverting her mother's attention that was always focused on the newborn cradled in her arms. Now she understood why. Babies needed special handling.

With a stack of pillows tall enough to prevent TJ from falling off the bed, she gently set him down and headed for the living room. She grabbed every pillow she could find and put up another barrier between them so that she would not accidently crush him. He grunted with eyes closed and continued to feed off the bottle, formula dripping from his mouth and onto her bed. Kids aren't that bad when they're quiet. She placed a kiss on the side of his head and finally shut her tired eyes.

How could I have been so careless? Maura stepped out of her vehicle and looked up at the apartment. She distinctly remembered setting down her cellular on the dresser beside the door before pouncing on the woman. She also left in a bit of a hurry after Rizzoli uttered the words that were so painfully true. That's way beyond low, even for you Doc. Leave it to Rizzoli to speak her mind regardless of what others might think or feel. Standing outside the familiar beige door, she scavenged her purse for the key she was given.

It'll be easier this way. My gut tells me you won't do anything stupid with it, Rizzoli had said when she nonchalantly gave them to her. A few days later, Maura had given her the password to her garage and to the security pad to her house.

This was the first time she walked into the apartment during the day, it was always dark when she visited, and was not surprised at all with the interior. It contained neutral tones of furniture and framed pictures of different members of the Rizzoli family. She couldn't help but feel jealous with the smiling faces in the frames, all happy and carefree together. Her childhood was so different. So detached. Moving further into the living room she took note of the fairly large LED TV that looked scarcely used, then to the dinged coffee table sitting in front of it, sports magazines littering the surface. She paused at the sight of part of a stroller.

Maura was fairly sure the detective did not have a child. It was old news that her relationship with Special Agent Gabriel Dean had fallen to bits after the rush of working against The Surgeon and The Dominator was over. It was the danger that brought them together for a short period of time and the feelings they shared dissipated after a few months. It had been the buzz around the station for a while. A detective and a federal agent never mixed well together, and they had proved the theory to be correct.

On the kitchen island was a container of baby formula, the powdery contents spread out on the dark marble countertop. A pile of empty pizza boxes took majority of the space on the counter beside the sink. It seemed like that was all the detective ever ate. Her fingers itched to bring about order and cleanliness but this was not her place. She softly padded into the bedroom and peeked through the partially opened door. Rizzoli's mane of hair was spread on the pillow she was laying on, one arm resting on her forehead and feet crossed. It wasn't until after she stepping inside and retrieved her phone did she notice the infant curled up against the pillow between them. The sight before her was strangely satisfying. It made her heart swell.

The apartment had the barest necessities for a child and with the work hours Rizzoli had, it'd be impossible to raise one on her own. She did not see a crib anywhere, a chair for the baby to eat or toys scattered about. She snapped out of her reverie when the hoarse whisper reached her ears, "Dr. Isles?"

Maura turned her attention back onto Jane, who was now awake, giving her a mildly alarmed yet questioning look. "My apologies, detective. I forgot my phone." She waved her blackberry in the air.

"Oh." She glanced at the infant beside her, relief passing through her expression. They stared at each other not sure what to make of the situation. They never talked much outside of work besides during their nighttime rendezvous. And that was hardly considered conversation.

Maura knew she should have left. She should have walked out the front door after retrieving her mobile, but her feet moved on their own accord instead, closer to Rizzoli, closer to the child. Jane's lips were in a straight line. A conquest never lingered. She never allowed it, but seeing the doctor's curious stares at the child as if it was from out of this world gave Jane a feeling that the Queen of the Dead was not familiar with the warmness only a child could give.

Maura softly caressed TJ's back in awe. Being a mother was always something she wanted to do. The fear of not being able to be there for it always plagued her mind. "Is he yours?"

Jane shook her head, "Hell no." She glanced at the digital clock. 10:19. Good enough. "He's my nephew, TJ. Tommy Junior. Boring Aunt Jane is going to take care of him until his parents come back."

Moments ticked by as they sized each other up. They did nothing to hide the lustful stares like they did at work. "I never took you for the nurturing type."

"Me neither." She shrugged. "I have no idea how to handle a kid."

"You seem to be doing just fine." Maura yearned to touch the child again but refrained from doing so. She did not want to put the detectives effort down the drain. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you."

"It's all right. It was either you, or the kid crying his eyes out that wakes me up."

There was a moment of silence.

"Hold on." Jane cautiously got off the bed, rearranged her pillows, boxing in TJ completely. She reached into a bag and set up the baby monitor. "Come." Jane put a hand on the small of her back and ushered her into the living room. The muscles in Maura's back tensed at the electrical surge emanating from the brunette's hands. She eased out of her grasp as if it were the plague. For some reason, it felt wrong, like she was cheating on the man who long turned his back on her. Outside of their secret escapades, the two women never touched. She assumed that the strong emotional desire she felt when those hands brought her into ecstasy was only from the sex.

Now she stood stunned, realizing why she returned to the brunette when need be. When the void Father Brophy left started to consume her whole again, only one source was able to fill up the emptiness. This was a purely sexual relationship. She could not – should not – be feeling this way. It never ended well. No. No. No. Stop it. She clenched a fist. Her heart yearned for someone to hold her in the absence of the man who broke her heart, and somehow Jane Rizzoli was the one. No one else piqued her interest like the detective, and she was beginning question the real reasoning behind their trysts. I'm just a lonely soul desperately seeking refuge. A safe place. And safe is what the detective made her feel.

She was snapped out of her reverie when Jane appeared inches in front of her with a glass of water in hand. "You look like you need some." Jane was not sure how to approach the now sullen woman.

She cleared her throat as she fought back the tears. "Thank you." She desperately drank the water but could not stop the choked sob. Not able to hold back anymore, the tears came and she set the glass down onto the table, wiping her eyes. Fuck you Daniel. The heartbreak he left her in was screwing up her feelings. "My apologies." She sniffed. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I should get going." She turned.

"Shit." When Maura scurried away from her, on instinct, Jane took hold of an arm and pulled the blonde into a tight embrace. She lived to protect and protecting is what she was good at. It was second nature to her and damn her to hell if she ever failed to do so. She silently held the trembling woman in her arms, rubbing circles on the small of her back. Tears soaked through her shirt as the sobs racked Maura's shoulders. Jane thought that this casual relationship they had would not affect her in the slightest. But seeing the poised, well-mannered doctor who never showed a hint of emotion fall apart before her eyes made her heart ache. She's not a robot after all. The Queen of the Dead had her own demons to face.

At this moment, the unease of having a casual friend in her humble abode longer than necessary was wiped away. It was outside of Jane's comfort zone and she knew, deep inside her that maybe there was a reason she gave the doctor a key to her home (when no one else had the privilege). Maybe there was a reason she did not kick out the woman who stayed longer than Jane was accustomed to. There was definitely a reason why she had the woman in her arms crying, instead of out the door. Without even realizing it, a bond had formed between them.

Pulling away but still in each other's arms, they stared, knowing that they shared the same thoughts. Jane bit the inside of her cheek. This is going to get messy, I just know it.

This started off as something small and somehow took off. I have read up to The Silent Girl (Book #8 of Tess Gerritsen's Rizzoli & Isles novels) and currently up to date with the TV show. As you can see, I have mixed up both worlds a little bit. This is all Rizzles, don't worry about the beards. I will go more in depth on how they even began this whole thing in future chapters.

I have no one looking over this for me and all I have is a blank page to write my thoughts, which may or may not be as organized as I'd like. I've rewritten so many things so if you spot something out of whack, please let me know so I can fix it. Hope you enjoyed!