This is a crossover featuring Law & Order: SVU, Criminal Minds, and Rizzoli & Isles. It features the pairs Jane/Maura, Emily/JJ and Olivia/Alex, although it centers around Jane, Emily and Olivia. You do not need to be familiar with all of these shows or ships in order to read this fic. I hope I've filled it out enough that it will be an engaging read even if you don't know any of the shows. Although the fic is going to stick to a common theme, it will jump a bit around in terms of chronology. I don't think it will be too difficult to follow, but feel free to shoot me questions/comments as I go along.

This is my first try at a crossover.

I hope it's successful!

happy reading

tc

…

…

…...

"You're fidgeting."

Emily snaps out of her trance and looks around at JJ.

"What?"

JJ's eyes stay on the road, but a smile pulls at her lips. "You're biting your nails, Em," she says, gesturing with the hand closest to the passenger seat. "C'mon. You gotta calm down. I don't understand why you're so nervous."

Emily sighs heavily, leaning her head against the window of the car and watching the scenery roll by. "I'm not…" she begins, but she catches the look JJ gives her out of the corner of her eye, and rethinks her approach.

"It's not nerves, really," she tries again, insisting when JJ rolls her eyes. "It's not. I mean. They're like my sisters. They are more family to me than any real family."

JJ clears her throat and Emily amends at once. "Except for you and Henry, JJ. Don't get all ruffled. I meant...I meant like the ambassador."

JJ still doesn't take her eyes off the road, but Emily still has the feeling that the other woman is reading her. As if he can hear her call him through his dreaming, Henry mumbles incoherently from his booster seat in the back.

JJ glances fondly into the rearview mirror, and then throws a look at Emily, a quick, searching thing that lingers on the brunette's hands, clenched tightly in her lap.

"You know," she says after a moment. "You never told me how the three of you met."

Emily frowns. "I'm sure I did," she says.

JJ shakes her head. "No, you never did. You said the three of you kind of, fell in with each other when you moved to Boston for 8th grade, but you never really went into detail."

Emily looks back out the window, trying to remember a time when she'd spoken in detail to JJ about her childhood.

She comes up empty.

"We didn't just fall in with each other," she says finally. "It took some doing."

In the fading light from the afternoon, Emily sees JJ raise an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

Emily lets out a breath. "Jane was not my biggest fan."

JJ chuckles, "You could have fooled me. I've never heard a more worried voice on the phone than when I called and told Jane Silas."

Emily has to smile too. She remembers the three way call that had happened after that case, her two best friends unloading all their fear and concern in the only way they knew how. Jane using every swear word she could think of, Olivia low voiced and tight lipped.

"Yeah. Well. Once she loves you, you're in for life," Emily says. "But you gotta get in first."

"So how did you get in?"

Emily thinks for a moment, and then she laughs. JJ looks at her, confused.

"What's so funny?" she asks.

Emily leans back in her seat, still smiling. "You know," she says, "You know, I think I got in...by getting knocked out.

…

…

For several days, she watches them from a distance, gathering facts. At first she thinks they are sisters. They are always together, and the younger one seems to lean on the older in a fashion that denotes a closeness found in familial bonds. But then, one day towards the end of April, she decides to follow them home, and she is surprised to see them disappear into different houses.

Later, in her own house, she unpacks the emotion and comes to understand that her shock stems from envy. She is envious that these two girls share a bond close enough that they can be mistaken for sisters. She has never had any friends that close. She was not aware until just that moment that it was something she wanted.

But she does.

She is a new 8th grader in a school where the children have been together since infancy. She is taller than many of the girls, and some of the boys. She dresses with wealthy, European style, and speaks French with a perfect accent that even the teacher has not mastered. She sticks out like a sore thumb. No one even tries to engage her. By the end of her second week in her new school, Emily Prentiss has made up her mind.

Boston does not like her.

Gradually, she learns the names of her two studies. The younger one is Jane, a sixth grader, tempestuous and unrefined. The only time Emily sees her alone is when she's sitting, wild haired and smug outside of the principal's office, or when she glimpses her trudging hesitantly up the stairs to her house. Otherwise, she is surrounded by her friends, or shoulder to shoulder with the older girl, whose name, Emily finds out, is Olivia.

Olivia is in eighth grade, like Emily, and where Jane is loud and brash and cocky in her confidence, Olivia is quiet and intense, observant. Her last name is Benson, and with Emily being a Prentiss, they don't sit anywhere near each other in the classes they share. But sometimes, Emily will look over to see the other girl staring out the window, daydreaming, or doodling little patterns on the covers of her text books. Opposite to Emily, Olivia excels in Science, is passable in math, and struggles with English and history. It is this knowledge that pushes Emily into action, on a rainy Thursday morning 27 days after she arrives in Boston.

She approaches Olivia at her locker after the last bell, hands clutched around her books so tightly that the pale skin of her fingers looks almost translucent.

Just do it, she thinks, trying to banish the nerves from her expression. She's a girl, not a shark.

"Hi," she says, too loudly, too brusquely. She can feel herself blush. "Um…Olivia?"

The girl turns to her slowly, or maybe it is just Emily's mind that has slowed the moment down.

"Hi Emily," Olivia says easily. "What's up?"

Emily is too stunned to speak for a moment, and when she does finally regain control of her vocal chords, what comes out makes her blush deepen. "How do you know my name?"

Olivia raises an eyebrow, looking slightly amused. "We have three classes together," she says, and her voice holds no bite. "I assume it's the same way you know mine."

Emily accepts this answer, resisting the impulse to explain that she knows Olivia's name for a much different reason.

"Belanger was brutal today, huh?" Olivia says lightly, turning back to her locker to continue packing her books. "She lost me right around the part where she said the entire book wasn't really about a meatpacking plant after all."

"It's a metaphor," Emily says without thinking. "The struggles of the workers and the family are only devices the author employs to speak to a larger injustice happening in the real world."

Emily drops her gaze to her shoes, cursing her reflexive need to impress, but when she looks back up, Olivia is looking back at her, face just as easy and open as when the conversation began.

"Sure," she says good naturedly, "would have probably helped if I'd read it."

And Emily finds herself laughing. Olivia looks pleased. Emily opens her mouth to say something that is hopefully just as witty, but the sound of running feet makes them both look around.

Jane Rizzoli enters the scene in her usual, tornado like fashion, all curly raven hair and disheveled uniform. Emily watches Olivia's expression soften into one of affectionate exasperation.

"Jane," she says with a chuckle. "You're going to get a demerit for running in the hall."

"And for your uniform," Emily puts in before she can stop herself.

Jane turns to eye her incredulously. "Who asked you anyway?" she retorts, though her demeanor lacks the aggressive conviction she's clearly striving for.

"This is Emily," Olivia says with a quick smile in the other girl's direction.

"Yeah," Jane says. "I know. I see you around. Finally got up the nerve to talk to us, huh?"

Emily feels her stomach give a little kick. "What?"she asks.

"Jane," Olivia murmurs, but Jane continues on, oblivious.

"Took ya long enough. I was beginning to think you would never ask anyone to hang out. I thought you might think you were too good for us, but Liv says you're just shy… So, which is it?"

Emily stares at her.

Jane looks supremely proud of herself for stumping an eighth grader. Olivia rolls her eyes, and reaches out to give Jane a little push.

"Lay off her, Jay, seriously." She turns back to Emily. "We weren't like…stalking you or anything," she explains. "We just noticed you…noticing."

"Yahyah," Jane agrees, her wide brown eyes staring up into Emily's face, "like this." She looks off into middle distance like a zombie.

Olivia laughs, and Emily, after a moment's hesitation, laughs along with them.

"I didn't realize I was being so obvious," she says. "I will invest in a camouflage and some binoculars next time."

Jane has a laugh like the bark of a dog, happy and quick. "Ready?" she asks Olivia. "And you can come too, Emily, if you're game."

"Come where?" Emily asks, as Olivia groans.

Jane looks at her, disbelieving. "Uh…hello? It's been raining all day? Mud football in the park!" she hops up and down three times.

"No," Olivia whines. "C'mon Jay, it's not even Friday. We'll still be soaked through tomorrow in school."

Emily tilts her head at this argument. It seems off to her somehow, though she couldn't put her finger on why.

"Nah," Jane says, unperturbed. "Just do your stuff at my place." She turns to look at Emily, her face alive with a sort of naïve excitement that Emily wonders if she ever even possessed.

She glances at Olivia, who grins a little wickedly, Jane's excitement seeming to infect her. "I'm in if you're in," she says.

Emily looks between the two of them, weighing her options. She is dressed immaculately in her school uniform with nothing to change into. If she tracks mud into her house, the ambassador will be furious.

These two girls are being nicer to her than she ever imagined girls could be.

"I'm in," she says.

…

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!"

"Would you please stop swearing. Don't touch her! We don't even know what's wrong with her…Emily? Can you hear us?"

"Oh…damn…oh damn, Liv, she's not moving."

"Stop swearing!"

"Damn isn't a swear!"

"Yes it is."

"No it's not. Pop says."

"Yeah, your father is the one we should be asking about what is and isn't appropriate language."

Emily opens her eyes slowly, looking up at the two muddy, slightly panicked faces of Jane and Olivia floating above her. The rain has eased up, and as her senses return to her, she realizes she is lying flat on her back on the ground, the wet grass soaking her skin through her shirt.

"Wha-what happened?" she mumbles, her mouth slow to catch up with her brain.

Olivia's face is nothing but open relief. "Oh, thank God," she sighs. "Emily? You okay?"

If Jane's face shows relief, it is masked by excitement. "You got pummeled," she crows. "Stabler took you down hard in the end zone."

Emily looks between them, still dazed. Vaguely, she recalls a tall, muscular boy launching himself into her peripheral vision. "Did I score?" she asks weakly.

Olivia frowns, but Jane laughs again, sitting back on her heels and pulling her wet muddy hair out her face. "You sure did!" she cries. "We won! Youwon!" She pumps her fist in the air. "Best game ever!"

Emily starts to move, to sit up, but Olivia puts a firm hand on her shoulder. "You were completely unconscious," she says, still looking worried. "For like ten seconds. You didn't move at all."

Emily lets her head fall back against the wet earth, appraising. "Well," she says after a minute. "I have a small head ache. But I know the day of the week. I know who you are and where we are, and what we came out here to do…so…I'm going to assume it's a mild, mild concussion. At the worst." She attempts to sit up again, and this time Olivia lets her, sitting back on her heels and watching Emily intently.

"Jane kicked Stabler in nuts," she says matter of factly. "For taking you out so hard." She pauses, like she's trying to decide if she should continue. "I would have too…if that were my thing."

Emily laughs, and Olivia visibly relaxes. "Remind me to thank Jane for the sentiment," she says. "Will you help me up?"

Five minutes later, the three of them are walking down the sidewalk in the fading autumn light, Jane bouncing between the teenagers, still recounting the highlights of the game.

"And then," she says excitedly, throwing a glance at Emily, "well…you know what happened. And we won!"

Emily glances at Olivia, who is watching Jane with a sort of maternal affection that she's seen on the girl's face before. She wonders about their relationship again, at what has brought such different girls together, but when she catches Olivia's eye, she realizes that it is not a good time to ask.

As they walk, the mud covering their bodies begins to dry, and when they turn onto the street that has Olivia and Jane's houses, they are all walking like reanimated little mummies.

"You guys do this a lot?" Emily asks, picking at the crust of mud on her elbow as they walk.

Olivia nods, "enough," she says ruefully. "Mud football is Jane's favorite game."

"Wrong," Jane says from a couple paces in front of them. When she turns to face them, walking backwards, her face is streaked with mud, like war paint. "Wrong. My favorite game is field hockey. But I can't play until high school."

"Sure you could," Emily says without thinking. "There's tons of leagues around town for kids your age."

The silence that meets this suggestion makes her glance around, and then go red with realization. She opens her mouth, trying to think of a way to take back what she's just said, and then closes it again, understanding that anything she says will make it worse.

Jane has stopped bouncing. She glares hard at Emily and then falls into step next to Olivia on the sidewalk, forcing Emily to walk half a step behind them.

Olivia says nothing, and Emily doesn't complain.

At the foot of the stairs to Jane's house, the girl turns and squares her shoulders to Emily, who can tell by her body language that she will not be allowed admission into the house. Not today.

"Did you have fun?" She asks it like an interrogation specialist, and even five inches shorter, and skinny as a rail, Emily can't help feeling a little intimidated.

"Yes," she says, glad that she doesn't have to pretend. "Right up until I lost consciousness. Yes."

Olivia smiles, but Jane's lips don't even twitch. Without taking her eyes off of Emily, she addresses Olivia.

"You want to do your stuff at my house?"

Olivia shakes her head, still grinning. "I'm good, Jay," she says softly. "See you tomorrow?"

And Jane nods, and turns and bounds up her porch steps, and Emily has just turned after Olivia to head down the street, when Jane calls out.

"See you tomorrow, Prentiss."

She waves over her shoulder, unsure if she's ever had a wider smile.

…

…

Emily stops talking as Boston's skyline comes into view. She stares at the prudential building, lit up against the darkening sky, and she feels exhilaration and abject terror in the same breath.

JJ reaches across the gearshift to put her hand on her girlfriend's knee.

"Em-"

"It's been so long," Emily says in a rush. "It's been such a long time since we all really sat down and...I don't know. What if we have nothing to say to each other. What if we've outgrown what kept us together in childhood? What if-"

"Shh," JJ says firmly. "It's too late, Emily."

"Too late for what?"

"Too late to second guess yourself," JJ answers, pointing out the windshield of the car.

"We're here."