DISCLAIMER: Rizzoli & Isles and its characters are the property of Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro and TNT television network. Lyrical content from Florence + The Machine's 'Falling' and 'Are You Hurting The One That You Love'
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ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Kiss With A Fist
Tastes Like Blood

By wildwildwood

 

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Are you hurting the one that you love?
You'd like to stay in heaven but the rules are too tough

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"What are you doing down here?" Korsak's voice startled Jane, causing her to knock over the stack of papers on Maura's desk.

"Shit, Korsak - don't sneak up on someone in the morgue!" Jane bent down and quickly shoved the pages together and tossed them back on the desk - she normally wasn't so jumpy down here but poking about Maura's office without her seemed weird.  It was also her fault, waiting for when she knew Maura'd have left for lunch before she came back down here.  She didn't want to face the other woman - she didn't even know how to face her now. After whatever happened in the bathroom of the bar last night -

"I didn't know knocking on the door was considered sneakin' up on someone, but hey, what do I know?" He shrugged, leaning on the back wall, watching his former partner as her eyes roamed the room, searching.

"It is when they didn't get any sleep the night before."

"I heard something about that. You need anything?"

"Yeah - I need the files from the Pallecki case - I gotta go to court next week and I wanna go over them - but girl wonder here -" She waved at the now almost meticulous desk beside her "Hasn't filed them right so I can't find it. What are you doing down here?" Korsak made a non-commital shrug of the shoulders, "You tried asking the lady? She's down in the gym."

"What gym?"

"Our gym - downstairs."

"Why? She's got that fancy yoga place down the block?"

"Maybe she wanted to be nearby - you know, in case anyone needed anything?" Korsak shrugged again. He watched as Jane stalked out of the office, holding the door open for her.  God knows how her parents dealt with her when she was a teenager, he thought as

he slowly made his way down to the gym. It was slow day - and if he knew anything, which wasn't a lot - but was enough, there'd probably be some more pieces of the Doc to pick up before Jane was done with her.

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Are you hurting the one that you love?
And was it something you could not stop?

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Jane shoved open the doors to the gym, her eyes sweeping across the room until she found Maura Isles in the corner, quietly, precisely jabbing away at a punching bag.  A small flood of relief came over Rizzoli.  In Isles' office, with Isles' things and Isles' smells and Isles' way of doing things she felt like an intruder - down here however - this was her space. Her turf. She had fallen more times than she could remember on those mats, she had bled more on those floors and fought more in that ring than anyone could even imagine.  Including the small woman in the back focused on the 100LB bag in front of her.  Jane quickly flexed her neck - there was a time not too long ago that she didn't feel the need to be armed and ready for battle when she went up against Maura Isles - but now she didn't know what to expect from the other woman - where Jane fought with with words and guns and fists Maura fought in different ways, with silence and looks and touches and tenderness. It threw Jane off - and nothing upset her more than being unprepared.  "Hey -" She called out to Isles as she made her way over "Nice form."

No response.

"Hey?" Jane called out again.

Near total silence except for the soft snap of skin on canvas.

Frustrated, Jane reached out her hand - hesitating slightly as it hovered over Maura's exposed shoulder. Touching seemed a little ... weird ... given their circumstances. She quickly poked the other woman then yanked her hand back as if she poked fire. Maura's left hand instantly went to stop the swinging bag as her right yanked out her headphones - releasing the rhythmic, droning music and the lullaby-like voice out to the gym. Maura said nothing - simply staring at her. "What are you doing down here?" Jane asked, feeling irrational anger rise the longer she was stared at with those hazel eyes. She had been prepared for hurt, and she'd been prepared for anger - she wasn't prepared for the vacantness of them, as if Maura had no recognition of who this other woman was. Maura didn't respond to the question - the answer was evident. "Oh, ok - so while the rest of us are off solving crimes and finding killers, you stay down here and listen to your music -" She snatched the dangling ear buds and listened for a second to them. "What is this crap anyways?"

"It's not crap, it's low-fidelity with post-punk influences. And you're not solving crimes and catching killers, your team had no actively open cases as of 32 minutes ago."

"You didn't answer your phone."

"I'm on lunch." Was the curt reply. So this was what it was like to be on the receiving end of the Maura's infamous lack of interpersonal skills. No wonder she was legendary on the force.

"Well I need you -"

"I doubt that." Maura responded, with no cracks to her Queen of the Dead act.

"I need the Pallecki case - I have to testify. I looked for it but I couldn't find it - maybe if organized like normal people instead of some sort of 'genius' level of organization, I wouldn't be down here bugging you on your lunch break." Jane shot back.

"Did you try case number?" Maura asked flatly - "My genius organization is the force standard case number system. You'd also be able to cross reference by name and date. Maybe if you tried following the procedures put in place, you'd have time to - I don't know - change your clothes." Maura smiled, her voice affecting the Brahmans of Boston touch as she delivered her line. Once she saw it landed, she turned back around and popped her earbuds back in place.

"I changed my shirt." Jane muttered, as her phone rang.  "Rizzoli."

"Janie - honey, can you come over?"

"Ma, -" She stepped away from Maura who returned to the punching bag, the soft sounds being replaced with heavy thuds and grunts. She had been dismissed. It scared her how easily Maura could slip in and out of her different skins, her different acts. "Ma, I'm at work - can it wait? Call Frankie - I think he's off today."

"I don't want to talk to Frankie, I want to talk to you.  And no, it's waited long enough."

"Mom..."

"Jane."

She sighed. "I'll be there in 20 minutes." She hung up her phone. Maura had gone back to her work out - and she was glad. Maura's comment about her clothes made her feel like crap. It was true - she was in the same clothes that she wore to the bar last night when she left with Tom. She probably should've gone home to change - but she woke up late and disoriented as to how and why she was in the bunk room and she wasn't quite able to get into the flow of work everyone else was in.  So much so that she walked right by Korsak, sitting on the bench, waiting for the two women to be done with their conversation.

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This is a song for a scribbled out name

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Maura's fists found their rhythm against the punching bag quickly.

She didn't like what she was being reduced to. She would normally channel any unhelpful or negative emotions and energy towards yoga - exhausting her body with poses designed to center oneself and re-connect with the earth and everyone else.  But today, she'd started her day by almost running into Jane, flaunting her bed-head and her recycled outfit from the night before and all she wanted to do was hurt someone and something as badly as she was hurting. 

Vengeance and retribution were two of the strongest human emotions - making one capable of almost anything. 

Her comment to Jane was petty and cruel - but it was how she was raised; it was how she had seen others act around her her entire life. It was wrong and hurtful and it felt so...good... to see the comment land and the flash of pain across her friend's eyes.

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And my love keeps writing again and again

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It was an irrational desire - to hurt the other woman like she had been hurt. 

But that's what she was feeling - intense waves of scorn and possessiveness.  Jane had always been hers in a way. Her best friend, her confidant, her protector - and last night she had become marked as Jane's. 

Irrational. It was just irrational. She kept repeating to herself as she continued her assault on the punching bag.  Only 3% of the world's mammals were monogamous; and humans were most definitely not part of that minute number.  Besides - there was nothing ever said about monogamy between the two of them.

There was nothing ever said about anything between the two of them.

There wasn't anything between them - Jane had made that perfectly clear when she left her alone in the bathroom to run off with some stranger she'd just picked up.

Yet there it was.

The very real yet elusively located pain in her chest and the irrational desire and possessiveness.

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This is a song for a scribbled out name

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She wanted to hate Jane for causing this pain, revealing this side of herself - but she couldn't. Not entirely.  It had started because Maura wanted to know where they stood. She started an experiment and was now unhappy with the discoveries. 

If Maura thought that sleeping with Jane would've solved the unasked question of what exactly their relationship was, she was sorely mistaken.  It simply caused more questions to arise about themselves, their relationship and their interactions with the world at large. Neither knew what was now acceptable, or expected of each other.  They now had a hard enough time acting with basic human civility with each other.  It seemed all both women wanted was to go back to before the kiss in the cold Boston night in the Rizzoli's driveway; before the locker room; before they became friends.

The trouble was, they also wanted to go back to those hushed and hurried exchanges to relive each moment and each gasp and grasp and sensation - from the hard floors to the soft kisses.

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And my love keeps writing again and again

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Her bag suddenly gave her more resistance. She raised her head and saw Korsak holding it in place, bracing it on right shoulder, a sad sort of smile on his face.  She stopped and yanked out her earbuds. "The case is -"

"Filed by case number, cross-referenced by name - the same way we've been doing it since 1963 - I know.  You don't have to stop on my account, just thought you could use some more resistance." He watched as her eyebrow raised, "Though seeing how much resistance Jane was giving you - maybe not."

"You don't have to stay." Maura spoke softly.  "I'm fine." She had always regarded Korsak as a rumpled, kindly uncle figure - the one parents would invite over for the holidays so he wouldn't be alone. But nothing, and no one belonged to her - they were Jane's friends, and Jane's family.

That sense of possession - people were not possessions. They were free agents. So why did everything and everyone in the building feel marked as Jane's.

Korsak shrugged as if he could sense the question, but didn't move from the bag. "Listen Maura, Jane.  Is always gonna be 'my' Jane - she was one of the best partners I've had and I kinda like to think of her as family. But you're part of the family now too.  And I'm gonna look out for you no better or worse or different than the way I look out for Jane."

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And again and again

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There was that name again. Jane.

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And again and again

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Jane.

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And again and again

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Jane.

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And again and again

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"I don't know what's going on between the two of you - I think I know - I mean, I've been married a couple of times, so I've seen it before - but it's your own business."  He watched as a sad smile spread across her face; "But one thing you gotta know about her is that jumping doesn't scare her.  It's knowing no one'll be there to catch her."

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Are you hurting the one that you love?
Bite your tongue 'til it tastes like blood

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Jane threw open the back door, expecting her mother waiting for her in the kitchen.  That's where Angela used to sit - at the kitchen table - waiting for her daughter to sneak in after a late date or a call home from school.  There was no Angela at the kitchen table however - just the sunlight through the windows. "Ma? You home?"

"Upstairs Janie!"

Jane made her way upstairs - unsure of what was waiting for her. She found her mother in her old bedroom, looking out the window. "Hey, what's going on? Everybody ok?"

"Yeah, yeah - everybody's ok."

"What are you doing here by the window?"

"Just looking." Angela responded, her arms crossed across her body. 

"Well what are you looking at?" She asked, putting an arm around her mother and peeking out the window.  "All I can see is the driveway."

"Yeah - I used to watch your dates from up here."

"Ma! That was private!" Jane exclaimed, a blush rising to her cheek as she pulled her arm

"What's going on with you and Maura?"

"What?" Jane's heart dropped down to her feet.

"What's going on with you and Maura?" Her mother repeated slower and louder, making sure each word was as clear as possible as she stared her down. 

"Ma, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me Jane - I raised you better than that."

"Calm down Ma, I'm not lying - I don't know what you're talking about. Whatever you've heard..." Her heart dropped as she saw where this was all going. From here, Jane could see straight down to where she always parked her car, where she parked that night Maura came over for dinner. Where Maura stood up on her tiptoes and initiated their first kiss.  "What else have you seen from up here, Ma?"

"You know your father and I, we love you, right? No matter what?"

"What did you see?"

"Jane -" Angela sat on the bed and patted the space next to her, inviting Jane to sit beside her. "Remember when you wanted to quit piano and you came to me and asked if Daddy would still love you?"

"Yeah," Jane muttered, hugging a pillow to her chest, this conversation bringing out the teenager in her.

"You remember what I said? What'd I say?"

"Ma -" Jane rolled her eyes but was stopped short by a glance from her mother. "You said there wasn't anything I could do that would make you stop loving me and that I had to clean my room."

"Your room is still a mess and we still love you Janie."

"I love you too Ma, but I don't know why you pulled me outta work for this!" Her voice was getting louder. Jane didn't like where this was going, and she didn't like getting pulled out of work - and she didn't like -

"I'm trying to tell you we'd still love you even if you WERE dating Maura! That's what I'm saying! That's what I saw!" Angela shouted back.

"What?"

"Hey," The door slammed and Frankie shouted up, "Is that Jane's car out front? What's that kid doin' home?"

"Up here Frankie!" Angela shouted back down. "The two of you! Kissing! In the driveway!"

"Ma - don't tell him to come up! And you got it all wrong! We weren't kissing -"

"I told her you'd lie through your teeth!"

"Told who what?" Jane shouted -

"Who lied to you, Ma?" Frankie asked, a bowl of cereal in his hand, leaning against the door.

"Frankie - no food upstairs." Angela demanded, sending him back down, before turning back to Jane, "Maura. I told her you'd lie to me - no wonder that girl's heartbroken, thinking you'd never talk to her again. Really Janie!"

"Wait a minute - Jane was kissin' Dr. Isles? Gross!" Frankie groaned from the doorway.

"I was not!" Jane turned around and whipped her pillow at her brother, splashing his cereal across his shirt!

"Frankie - it's not gross; and I thought I told you not to eat upstairs! Jane, don't lie to your brother and no tossing pillows - what are you - 5?

"Excuse me - Ma? It is totally gross! Have you seen Dr. Isles?! She's way outta Jane's league! What'd she do Janie? Lose a bet?" He laughed as he left the hall to change his shirt.

"Don't listen to him Janie -" Angela patted her hand, "I think you're just as pretty as Maura - especially when you wear a dress and comb your hair."

"Ma, I -"

"Jane." Angela's voice turned serious as she turned to face her daughter. "I know what I saw. And I know what I saw when I spoke to that girl -"

"Yeah, about that - since-"

"Don't interrupt. That girl loves you. And I know what I see when I see you two together. So don't insult me by pretending it isn't there. Now maybe you have your reasons to ignore them, but you gotta ask yourself - are those reasons worth it? Because your father and me, we're always gonna love you. And so's your brother. And we're always gonna love whoever you bring home." Angela sighed and rose from her daughter's bed and left her daughter's room, stopping at the pool of milk and Lucky Charms. "And Janie, clean this up before we get ants, will you?"

Jane tossed herself back onto her bed, trying to smother her face with her pillow. This day just went from bad to worse and she didn't think there was enough beer in Boston to fix it. Hell, she thought, there probably wasn't enough beer in the country to fix her problems.  But with or without her friends Hops and Barley, she was going to figure this thing out.  She was going to get back her friend, her life and her sanity. 

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Falling's not the problem
When I'm falling I'm at peace
It's only when I hit the ground
It causes all the grief

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But first, she sniffed at herself, she was going to take a shower.

The End

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