Disclaimer: I don't own Rizzoli and Isles.

Jane Rizzoli stormed down the hall, her strides jerky and her stance sending off a strong don't screw with me vibe. Other students leapt out of her way and a few of the university's staff watched her pass with raised eyebrows.

Jane didn't notice any of them. She was focused, intent on her target, determined that this time she would get what she asked for.

She breezed into the housing office, her mouth already open to begin shouting, and stopped dead, surprised to find that another girl was already there, looking pretty much the way Jane felt.

"Mr. Miller, you don't understand," the girl was saying, sounding both furious and near tears. "I can't take it anymore. She's—she's a monster. There's something seriously wrong with her. What if she does something to me while I'm asleep?"

Mr. Miller—the bane of Jane's existence—was a rotund man in his early forties, with thinning brown hair, bifocals, and a limp handshake. "Miss Sutherland, I am perfectly happy to arrange for you to transfer to another room. What you don't understand is that there simply aren't any availabilities in the honors dorm, and I highly doubt that anyone would be willing to trade with you. If you wish to transfer out of your current room, it will be into a different dorm building. One without the noise restrictions of the honors dorm."

Sutherland glowered at him. "There has to be something."

Mr. Miller gave her a bland smile—the one that always made Jane want to smack him. "I assure you, there isn't."

"He's right," Jane interjected when Sutherland drew in a deep breath to begin an undoubtedly justified and severely pissed off rant. Hearing Jane, the other girl whirled around and glared at her, surprised by her presence. "I've been trying to get into the honors dorm for weeks now," Jane explained.

Sutherland stared at her a moment longer before spinning to glower at Miller again. "Then transfer out my roommate."

Miller laughed incredulously. "On what grounds?"

"She's a menace to society. You'll think of something."

Miller shook his head. "Your roommate may be a bit unconventional, but she has scrupulously followed every rule we've set. I'm afraid your only option is to move out."

Sutherland ground her teeth. "Fine. Whatever. Just get me out of there."

Smiling—a satisfied smile, this time—Miller opened a large ledger and skimmed it quickly, tracing his finger down the page until he found what he was looking for. "Here we go," he said. "Butler Hall, room 26B. You can move in immediately." He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a set of keys, which he tossed to her.

Sutherland caught them with a scowl. "Thanks for nothing," she said snippily, and stomped away.

Jane waited until she couldn't hear the other girl's footsteps any longer before looking Miller in the eye, excitement surging through her.

"Jane Rizzoli," Miller sighed. "Back again, I see."

"I want Sutherland's room," Jane declared.

"As you know, there's a waiting list for the honors dorm. You're close to the top, Miss Rizzoli, but you're not there yet."

She slammed her hands on his desk, taking a fiendish delight in the way the bureaucrat leapt in surprise. "How many of the others have been down here every single day?" she demanded. "You think I didn't hear what Sutherland was saying about her roommate? Do you think the others on the list are going to be okay with finally getting into the honors dorm, only to learn that they'll be living with a freak?"

Miller gazed at her with suddenly keen eyes. "But you would be all right with it?" he said.

"Listen, I don't care if she practices the dark arts or parades naked through the room. I just need somewhere quiet to work and sleep. If I don't get it, I'm not going to last the semester."

She was aware that her voice was cracking; that she'd started out strong but was now close to begging. But the fact of the matter was that it was true. Getting accepted into BCU had been a dream come true, but paying for it was a nightmare. Even with scholarships, the only way she could afford it without bankrupting her family was by holding down two jobs in addition to taking a greater-than-usual class load in the hopes of graduating a semester or two early.

She'd had to endure six weeks of Constantly Partying Rich Brats Hall—also known as Ferguson Hall—so far, and her grades were suffering, she'd lost weight she couldn't afford to lose, and she was one sleepless night away from strangling her roommate.

To her surprise, Miller's expression softened. Not much, but enough. Perhaps she should have taken the I'm a vulnerable kid route a while ago. "If I agree to this, you're stuck there," he warned. "I won't switch you again."

She grinned for the first time in ages. "Deal."

Jane was somewhat astonished to find that Sutherland had already moved all of her stuff out by the time Jane arrived at her new room—16C, in the honors dorm, finally!—with her single bag of luggage. She didn't take much time to look around, noting only that the other bed had what looked like purple silk sheets, before returning to her old room for her books, desk lamp, and pillows.

The room was still empty when she got back. She started to make her bed before a wave of weariness and relief washed over her and she collapsed onto her desk chair, her long legs sprawled out in front of her. Propping her chin on one hand, she looked around the room with tired eyes.

This room was already an improvement over her old one, she thought. At least, it didn't have obnoxiously loud music pounding from speakers both within the room and without. From what she could see, her roommate's side of the room was neat. Two bookcases were loaded down with books, predominantly focused on medicine, though a variety of subjects seemed present.

The only thing that was truly strange was the framed picture on the wall above the bed. At first glance, Jane thought it was a cheap poster, the kind they sold at the school bookstore. Something about it nagged at her, though, enough that she forced herself off the chair with a groan and walked over to take a closer look.

She wasn't sure—she was no judge of art or medicine—but from what she could tell, it wasn't a mass manufactured poster at all. She thought it might actually have been hand drawn, an incredibly detailed anatomical sketch of a woman with no face, her internal organs, bones, and muscles depicted with careful precision.

A signature was scrawled in the bottom corner. "Misles," she thought it said.

"Wow," she breathed, leaning in even closer to look at the woman's feet, her eyes tracing each of the perfect, tiny bones.

"Can I help you?" The words were spoken in a soft but accusing voice.

Flushing guiltily, Jane turned to face the door. Her breath caught in her throat and she blinked in surprise. From what Sutherland had said, she'd expected her new roommate to be either a scrawny mouse with thick glasses and crazy hair or a seven foot tall Amazon with knives bristling from her clothing. This girl wasn't anything like that.

She was average in height, about Jane's age, with long honey-colored hair. Even with her lips flat and her eyes guarded she was beautiful—and that wasn't something Jane had ever thought about another woman, at least not without an accompanying flash of envy. Also, Jane knew nothing about women's clothing, having been a tomboy all her life, but she was pretty sure the other girl's outfit and shoes cost more than Jane's father made in a week. She refused to feel self-conscious, though. Here at BCU, Jane was the poorest of the poor, but she was also a fighter, and she was too proud to be ashamed of her roots.

"I'm Jane Rizzoli," Jane said. "Your new roommate."

The other girl's shoulders relaxed minutely. "So Sarah finally made good on her threats to move out?"

Jane shrugged. "She seemed kind of prissy, if you ask me."

Her roommate's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Listen, my last roommate kept me up at all hours of the night partying and generally making an ass of herself. As long as you don't do that, I really don't care what you do with your time." Jane wandered over to her own side of the room, picking up her calculus book and turning it over in her hands.

"I'm Maura Isles," the other girl said, smiling now, a soft, hesitant smile.

Jane whistled. "Did you draw that?" She gestured with the book at the sketch on the wall.

Maura winced. "Yes."

Jane had a feeling that Sarah Sutherland hadn't taken the sketch very well. "That's amazing," Jane said, a little more effusively than she actually felt, because she thought Maura needed the encouragement. "I can't even draw a straight line."

Maura came further into the room, closing the door behind her, and sat on her bed. "I love science," she said cautiously.

"Maybe you can give me a hand sometime. I'm taking chemistry with Ebershaw and it's kicking my ass."

"I'd be happy to," Maura said. "Chemistry is one of my favorite subjects."

"It's not that I'm stupid," Jane added, because she had a strong suspicion that Maura was some kind of genius. "It's just that I'm really busy with my jobs and I don't always have enough time to study."

Maura's head tilted. "Where do you work?"

"I'm a part time assistant secretary at the Boston Police Department. Plus I help my dad out with his plumbing business—I'm the son in 'Rizzoli and Sons,' since my little brother is useless with a wrench."

Silence fell between them, but it was comfortable rather than awkward. Jane had surprised herself—she rarely felt comfortable talking about herself with strangers, and here she was spewing her life story to a girl she'd just met. There was something about Maura, though, that made Jane let down her guard.

Maura was gazing down at her hands, which she'd neatly placed in her lap. As if feeling Jane's eyes on her, she looked up, and for a long moment they just stared at each other. Eventually Maura looked away.

"You want some help making your bed?" Maura said shyly.

Jane grinned. "Sure. Want to go to the dining hall after?"

"You mean…together?"

Jane laughed. "It's not a date or anything. It's just that I'm hungry, and I thought maybe you were too, and…I'm shutting up now." She kicked herself. Obviously Maura wasn't interested, and it had probably been stupid to make the suggestion in the first place. They were new roommates, not friends, and she shouldn't have assumed—

"I'd love to."

"What?"

Maura's eyes sparkled. "Sarah never wanted to do anything together. I want you and I to have a better friendship than that. I'd love to."

Jane felt happier than she had since she'd started at BCU. "Fantastic," she said, and meant it.