Jane was brooding. She brooded well. Her dark hair and dark eyes pulled the emotion off well; all that was required was a sour expression and boom, instant sulking. Her Blue Moon caught the reflection of the bar lights as she spun the bottle around slowly mimicking the slow, methodical thoughts that churned behind her dark eyes.

Korsak had given her the rest of the night off after a particularly difficult child abduction case. She hated when kids were involved. They had never done anything to deserve the nightmares that would ensue.

Twist. Twist. Jane began to tip the bottle precariously onto its serrated edges. It made the wurring noise of a quarter rolling across the bar top. There was a pulsing through the speakers suddenly as the beat of a new song began to pick up. It was 10:30 and the bar was turning into a bar with dancing…and college kids. BCU was only 4 blocks away and though the bar wasn't for kids, the upper classmen frequented the establishment on weekends. Good thing it was a Thursday.

Or maybe not. Jane subconsciously rolled her eyes as a pack of fraternity brothers in what appeared to be clothing for sailing, not bar hopping, pranced into the bar. Jane turned back to her beer, leaning over it protectively. Not tonight. Of all nights, why tonight? She sighed. The bartender gave her an apologetic look as he prepped shot glasses for the awaiting throng of irresponsible, barely legals.

Jane emptied the bottle and without thinking asked for another. She wanted to take the request back immediately after she raised her finger to signal one more. She wanted the freedom to leave, but her mind dragged with thoughts of her most recently failed relationship with Alana and the faces on the parents that had lost their son today.

Her family didn't know she experimented with women and she didn't want them to. Women were flings. They were fun. They were never serious Much like her relationships with men. Apparently, she didn't discriminate bad relationships based on gender. She just wasn't the relationship type for anyone.

Maybe you do need this drink, Rizzoli. She comforted herself with the cold amber liquid as it rolled across her tongue; the orange slice that Sal the bartender had dropped into the bottle had created a new crisp flavor that Jane was suddenly glad she stayed for. The warmth of the beer was beginning to reach her toes; her head blurred with the feeling. The music pounding in her ear didn't help.

The door of the bar opened again, Jane wouldn't have turned to look if the boys hadn't begun to chant chauvinist obscenities. Jane peered over her shoulder trying to catch a glimpse of the focus of so much attention. It only took one look. Jane twisted her entire upper body so she could see the slim, taut body of the new blonde. The newcomer looked out of place in her skintight black dress and perfectly curled blonde hair. The curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the dark lines of eyeliner traced under her lids created an air of attraction that Jane couldn't shake. Even though Jane could tell her eyes were lighter than hers, they were shadowed with danger. The woman dared anyone to cross her tonight. Jane's mouth hung open as she stared. The woman approached the bar, purpose driven. As the blonde moved closer, within enough range for Jane not to have to torque her body to see, the detective could see the barest traces of that black eyeliner running at the edges. Her cheeks had been expertly wiped with practiced hands. But the subtle, barely noticeable streaks were unmistakable. The woman had been crying. Jane's heart constricted. She wanted to help. But she didn't even know the woman. Still, the urge to console her didn't quit.

While Jane tirelessly sipped at her third beer, the woman to her right ordered a white wine. Though out of place in the dark bar in Boston, it suited the blonde. Somehow, it fit her. It was then that something had piqued the black-clad woman's interest. She flicked her blonde hair away from her face and used the momentum to turn a glance toward Jane. The blonde's eyes weren't red or even touched with tears. There was something else, something dark, seething, and daring beneath the gaze.

Jane swallowed, her mouth dry. She lifted her beer to the woman. A salute. Hang in there, sweetie. The other woman's lips curved upward at an edge. She looked away before a full smile overtook her. Jane took the bashful smile to be gratitude, but more than anything she liked to make this woman smile.

Jesus, Jane. What the hell is wrong with you? Jane turned away, her eyes returning to the dark rim of the bottle. And it wasn't long until the frat boys made another appearance. This time, significantly more drunk than twenty minutes before when they had walked in.

Three of them swarmed the blonde woman without any warning. Jane's attention snapped back to the events unfolding beside her. The blonde cowered over her drink, a sudden lack of confidence spilled from every facet of the woman's façade. The boys were getting too close to her. They were smothering her by proximity. They were breathing on her. The blonde tried to ignore them. Jane's anger flared. She just wants a fucking break, ya' douches. Jane was yelling inside her head, floored at the audacity of these guys. But she knew this was not her fight. The woman was an adult. Adults fix their own problems.

Jane waited maybe thirty more seconds until all she could see was red. A fierce protectiveness she had never known before swirled monstrously behind her eyes. Every muscle strained to throw the boys away from this woman she didn't know. But instead, she went for a more modest tactic, and one more likely to ward off potential attention in the future.

Jane put her beer down resolutely on the bar top, finally emerging from her stool. She may have been feeling the beer but the anger made her brave and unfaltering. She took the two steps it took to approach the throng of heavy cologne and booze. She exclaimed, feigning excitement, "There you are!"

All four of them turned toward Jane. Jane ignored all but the woman as she locked eyes with her. There was something that passed between them. An understanding was reached in milliseconds. Jane was there to save her. The blonde smiled widely, accepting the female form that was approaching her resolutely. Jane pushed past the fraternity guys and did the only thing that would make a difference. She took this unknown woman's face between her hands and slammed her lips into hers. Mouths parted, hands drifted, the atmosphere changed.

Everything changed.