Author's note: first chapter to a light and funny story, daily updates and reviews more than appreciated.

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"If you don't go to Santorini, Santorini comes to you." Angela Rizzoli.

Chapter One – You, Lucky B...

The moment she stepped into the BPD building that morning, Jane knew that something was going on and that this something was related to her. No, she hadn't developed any paranoiac tendency within the previous night but every single person she ran into ended up shaking his head at her before cursing through clenched teeth that exact same sentence: "You, lucky bitch".

At first her reason pushed her to assume that she had misheard whatever her colleagues seemed to say but Frankie swept away such vaguely reassuring conclusions within a second. Coffee in hand, he stormed out of the Division One Cafe and walked straight in her direction.

"You're a lucky so-and-so."

Jane didn't have time to react. Her brother had already closed the distance that separated them from the elevators the moment her brain connected with her lips to formulate a reply. Frankie disappeared from her sight, adding more to the mystery Jane now felt the urge to immediately solve if she didn't want to turn crazy.

Trying to not pay attention to her slight discomfort, she turned around and observed her surroundings.

If it weren't for the whispers in her back, nothing had changed. It was a very random day at the BPD: people were coming and going, civilians and police units. Her eyes stopped on the sidedoor of the Division One Cafe. She barely hesitated for two seconds.

Determined to put an end to what she now saw as a very bad joke, Jane walked towards the cafeteria where the only person susceptible to help her was now working: her mother. If there was someone in this building who always knew what was going on, it had to be her. Her bad habit to stick her nose in people's business might for once help Jane.

"If you don't go to Santorini, Santorini comes to you."

Jane froze. At least she had now found someone who didn't whisper. Her mother's voice rose so loudly in the cafe that all the customers turned around to stare at her. Angela took a sheet of paper out of the pocket of her pants then ran to her daughter. She waved the note.

"Here's a list of things I want you to bring me back. Of course if you take Maura with you then you can add a little extra but only if Maura comes with you. We both know, you and I, how you lack of imagination when you try to buy me a little somethin'. Maura's better at this. She's coming with you, right? That's what everyone's been sayin' this morning."

If her discomfort had subdued, it was only to let her confusion grow in a very concerning way instead. Jane grabbed the paper and checked the list. It looked like a shopping list: wine, olive oil, soap. Couldn't her mother run a few errands by herself?

"Are you trying to resupply Boston or something? Ma'... This list's longer than the amount of times Frankie got dumped by women." She didn't see it come but felt it nonetheless. A furtive snap on top of her head made her wince in pain but since she deserved it then she didn't complain. "Besides, I'm working... I don't have time for this."

"Today's your last day at work, Janie. Of course, you'll have time for it!"

Her mother's comment got the effect of a very cold shower. Her confusion melted into something a lot more serious and dreadful, something that made her heart beat faster and her hands turn moist. Clutched to the shopping list as if her life now depended on it, Jane swallowed hard and tried to convince herself that she had misheard her mother's reply.

Everything sped up in her brain and as flashbacks of the previous days showed up, an endless series of questions began to resound loudly in her head. Had she done something wrong?

She hadn't broken anything. She hadn't stolen a case from another unit. She hadn't caused her floor to run out of coffee which was enough of a reason to get fired too. No. She hadn't done anything susceptible to cause her trouble.

Besides, her mother was in a good mood and as much as she had never liked the idea of Jane being a detective, it was still better than being unemployed.

"Ah! Rizzoli. Here you are... Already saying goodbye to Boston, I see...?" Lieutenant Cavanaugh's voice took Jane out of her daydreams. "O'Connor is now on the Petersen case. Since there's a lot to catch back on and very little time to do so, you will spend the day putting him in the know. Okay? Detective Frost will assist you."

"The Petersen case? But that's my case!" Aware of her mother's presence by her side, Jane hesitated for a couple of seconds. She didn't want to share a professional talk with half of the Division One Cafe. "Am I... Am I being laid off?"

The question that had been burning her lips for the past minute finally hit the air with all the uncertainty Jane's voice could betray. Everything had started so well, though. She had woken up to a lovely sunny day, in a rather good mood. Then she had passed the doors of the BPD and everything had fallen apart.

Maybe she was still dreaming. Yes. It had to be a dream, a bad dream.

"If you decide to never come back then... Yes... But to be honest, I wouldn't blame you if you did. Who wants to stay in Boston when you can have the chance to live in such paradise?" Cavanaugh offered her a timid smile. "I checked all the pics this morning."

Cavanaugh and Angela exchanged a knowing look, one that didn't echo anything in Jane but the depth of her confusion. What was he talking about? Going where? She had not taken any day off and, as far as she knew, not a single business trip was scheduled for the next few weeks either.

"What on Earth is going on? Where am I supposed to go and why?" Jane's moan of frustration took her mother and her boss aback. "Is there someone in here who can tell me what's going on, exactly?"

Her reaction was extreme but at least it paid off and Jane got the attention that she needed. Or so. Her mother stared at her as if she had lost her mind and was now the dumbest person on the planet. Cavanaugh not having moved an inch, it was slightly humiliating.

"You're going to Santorini, Greece. For two weeks."

Jane straigthened up. Her mother's answer was still an answer but not a satisfying one. Why was she supposed to go to Europe? Her absence of reaction and her puzzled face caused Cavanaugh to join in.

"The annual BPD lottery? You won the big prize, Rizzoli. It's a trip to Santorini, for two people. Your flight takes off on Saturday. Enjoy your time with Dr. Isles and send us a postcard."

"Oh!"

The lottery.

Of course she had bought a ticket, everyone did. But since she never won, she had completely forgotten about it and had just moved on. She had no idea that the results were supposed to come out today. As a matter of fact, she didn't even know where she had to check the aforesaid results. Was there a board somewhere?

Then in the middle of her haze, a second point got raised. She hadn't paid attention to it until now but it actually shone brightly in the fog of her mind like a lighthouse in the middle of the night: Maura.

Why did people assume that she would leave with her? She hadn't signed any kind of paper when she had bought her lottery ticket that stipulated that if she won the trip to Santorini then she would go with her friend and nobody else.

People were jumping to conclusions in a way that left Jane uncomfortable and confused.

Maura was her friend but what if she wanted to go to Greece with someone else? She and Maura weren't glued. They did a lot of things together but Jane could easily decide to spend these two weeks in Santorini with... Alright. Apart from her mother - and there was no way it would ever happen - Maura was the only one who fit in the scenario.

"Jane!" Like in a bad vaudeville of some sort, Maura stormed into the Division One Cafe, a scalpel in her hand. "I know that Mrs. Petersen is dead but this isn't a reason to make her wait for so long. The autopsy was scheduled for 9am. You are running late."

Maura was wearing her usual autopsy clothes. Latex gloves covered her hands and a rebel lock of hair escaped from her hygiene cap. She hadn't even bothered putting down her surgical instrument. Jane finally made a step closer to her and lowered her voice.

"What are you doing with a scalpel at the Division One Cafe?"

The question took Maura aback to the point she made a step backwards and stared at the instrument that she was holding in her right hand with a barely contained incredulity. She shrugged, very matter-of-factly.

"Aren't you carrying a gun yourself?"

Jane repressed a snort and the strong desire to reply to her friend that there was a slight difference between a firearm and a surgical instrument. She was late which caused Maura's schedule for the day to suffer from it so she wasn't in a position to state that she was clever than her friend. Her repartee would have to wait.

Santorini, however...

"I'm afraid I've been discharged from the case."

Maura's laugh ceased as soon as she realized that neither Lieutenant Cavanaugh nor Angela reacted to contradict Jane. The slight annoyance she felt over the fact that Jane was running late for the autopsy immediately vanished, swallowed by a whirl of incomprehension.

"What happened?"

There was something satisfying and a bit sadistic in the idea of knowing something that someone else ignored, Jane had to admit it. Now that the roles were reversed and that she knew the reason of her upcoming absence, Maura's confusion appeared to be rather entertaining. She grabbed her friend by the shoulders and pointed the elevators.

"It's a long story. Good thing we have a fourteen-hour flight waiting for us so I can tell you exactly what's going on."

"What?!"