Description: Maura and her six year old son Finn escape the mob and take refuge under the protection of US Marshal Jane Rizzoli.

Note: I know I have an unfinished story with horrendously long wait times between chapters, but this idea popped into my head on the bus this morning and I couldn't not write it!

All the usual disclaimers; any characters you recognize are not mine.

...

The quarter moon cast a dim glow through the grimy sunlight, illuminating the path of the tightly bundled mother and son as they hurried silently through the dilapidated warehouse. A thick layer of dust muffled their footsteps, and there appeared to be not another soul in sight, but the woman remained tense with anxiety and held the boy's hand tightly.

"Where are we going, Mommy?" The little boy looked up at his mother with wide green eyes and a furrowed brow.

"Hush, darling."

Maura squeezed her son's hand ever more tightly and led him around yet another pallet loaded with dusty boxes of cheap plastic toys. Maura breathed a short sigh of relief; barely twenty feet in front of her was the door. As she approached it, taking care to maintain the near silence of her steps, she allowed a short sigh of relief to pass through her lips. Only twenty feet left, a dash across the narrow lane, and a squeeze through a gap in the chain link fence and she would be free. Twenty feet and her son would have a chance at a peaceful life. Twenty feet—

A shadow loomed across their path and Maura stopped short, pulling her son close into her body. They were so close.

A flashlight flickered on and its beam swept across their faces, quickly shutting off when they were recognized.

"Maura? Finn?"

Maura swallowed as her eyes re-adjusted to the darkness. Her eyes first fell to the flashlight, which she now realized was strapped atop a shiny Glock. Stiffening, but taking some small comfort in the limpness with which the gun was held at the man's side, Maura raised her gaze until finally she could make out a shadowy but familiar face. Dexter O'Shea was looking back at her with a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and hurt at her betrayal. One emotion, she noted, was missing: anger.

A tiny spark of hope sprouted within her and she made a decision. Holding her son ever more firmly to her side she spoke pleadingly, "Dex..."

Before she could say anything further, the man shoved his hand in his pocket and Maura flinched, certain he would pull out a cell phone or radio, with which he would call her father and report her attempt at escape. Instead, he retrieved a wad of cash and slowly approached her. He pressed it into her gloved hand, kissed her cheek, and placed his hand on Finn's head.

"Good luck."

With that, Maura stumbled towards the door, pulling her son behind her. By some miracle, they made it across the lane, through the fence, and into the adjacent lot without seeing another of her father's watchmen.

Snow crunching beneath their feet, Maura urged Finn to quicken his pace as they crossed the properties of three more warehouses before finally reaching one that was in operation. She had not had time to do a proper reconnaissance, but, drawing from her thirty one years of experience frequenting similar warehouse districts, was reasonably certain that there would be only one or two inexperienced security guards for the building. She was also reasonably certain that if either guard saw her, they would not hesitate in sharing every detail of any interaction with her father's... interrogators.

Keeping closely to the perimeter of the lot, and out of the range of security lights, Maura was grateful for Finn's ability to keep quiet. Though only six years old, he was adept at reading situations, and must have known that stealth was essential. Within minutes she spotted what she had been looking for: a rusty car sat alone in a tiny parking lot. If Maura believed in God she would have thanked Him, for not only was the car old enough to have manual locks, but it was far enough from the security lights to provide some cover.

Maura and Finn continued their slow shuffle along the edges of the lot until they were as close as possible to the unattended vehicle. About forty feet.

Maura crouched next to her son and placed a hand on each shoulder, "Finn," she said, somehow both firmly and gently, "we need to run very fast to that car; as fast as you possibly can, but you must be careful not to make any noise or slip on the ice. It's very important. Do you understand?"

Finn's brow remained furrowed, but he nodded his understanding. Maura straightened and unzipped her jacket just long enough to retrieve an unwound metal coat hanger she had tucked under her sweatshirt. Quickly re-zipping her jacket against the frigid December air, she reached down to take her son's hand in hers once more.

"Are you ready?"

The boy nodded resolutely, and together they stepped away from the fence and broke into a run. Very quickly they approached the car, and Maura guided Finn to the front passenger side door. Inserting her makeshift slim jim, Maura fiddled the coat hanger until she felt the catch of the locking pin. Within just a few moments, Maura had the door opened and she ushered Finn inside, hurrying around to the driver's side, and motioning for Finn to unlock that door as well. After glancing quickly around to make sure that the coast remained clear and they had not attracted the attention of any security guards, she ducked under the wheel.

She had jimmied the lock with the ease of an expert, having learned that skill at seven years old, but hotwiring a car was something she had never done. She had very quickly developed a strong moral code and soon after learning to pick locks had resolutely refused to learn any more criminal skills. With a deep breath she pulled off the cover of the steering column and pulled the bundle of wires toward her. The previous evening she had logged onto her laptop and searched and memorized seven different ways of hotwiring cars as well as which methods were recommended for thirteen different categories of cars. She carefully—but quickly—separated out the appropriate wires, snipped them, twisted them, and finally, finally, sparked the car into life.

Sitting up again in her seat, she fastened her seatbelt and instructed her son to do the same. As soon as Maura flicked on the headlights she caught sight of a security guard staring back at her in astonishment. Before he had even the chance to raise his radio to his lips, Maura had jerked the steering wheel, broken through the flimsy tollgate, and was rumbling through a maze of warehouses. Following the map she had memorized the previous evening, Maura drove quickly and efficiently out of the warehouse district, and did not dare to remove her foot from the gas pedal until they had merged onto the freeway.

After several minutes of driving in silence, Finn spoke for the first time since asking Maura where they were going. "Mommy..."

"Yes, darling?"

"We're going away forever, aren't we?"

Maura sighed softly, and glanced over at her son. He had removed his knitted hat and was looking at her through his mass of brown curls, which fell past his shoulders. Out of fear that they would be caught, or that she would lose her nerve, she had not given him any warning about the escape; he had inherited her inability to lie, and she had deemed it not worth the risk of exposure.

"Yes sweetheart," she said finally, returning her gaze to the road ahead, "we're going away forever."

...

Note: I know, no Jane in this one, but I promise she's coming soon!

I'm not entirely certain where this is going yet, so comments/ suggestions are welcomed.

Thanks for reading

-R&D