Author's notes: Guess who's back? Back again? :) (A little Eminem for you.) Are people still interested in Rizzoli & Isles fiction? I know I've been away for a while but the muse offered me this story and I couldn't say no! Life's kind of busy right now, but I'm getting as much down on paper as the muse allows and I will update as frequently as I'm able. With the show being over, I'm very curious if anyone even cares about this fandom anymore. Please tell me what you think! Oh, and a cookie for anyone who gets the Indiana Jones reference!

NOW

"... those of you in the north aren't going to fare much better. In fact, you'll likely see the brunt of the storm, with winds expected to gust up to 20 miles per hour and a possible foot of snow dropping by night fall. This came in so fast, folks, that the Klegg region has already gotten 8 inches and could get up to 16 in total. If you're going out in this, don't. Stay home, put on some hot chocolate, Netflix and chill."

"Thanks, Bob. Up next, do the Broncos have a chance in the Tony Romo sweepstakes?"

A young black man snorted. "Does Bob even know what 'Netflix and chill' means?"

She pointed the remote at the TV to put it on 'mute'. She might have lived in Colorado for the last 8 years, but her Patriots hat still hung on a peg near the door. "Frost, I don't know what's worse- thinking Bob doesn't know, or imagining he does."

"Ewww!" Barry Frost wrinkled his nose. "Damn, now I'll never get that image out of my head. Thanks, Jane."

"Any time."

She walked over to the station's window and looked out into the white. "He knows snow, I'll give him that much." Whether or not he knew about Netflix, he called the unexpected change in the weather almost to the inch. At 4 in the afternoon, half of the 18 inches had already fallen, without an end in sight. She had no problem believing the other half was well on its way.

A groan came from a man in the corner. "Shit. We're gonna get called out in this shitty weather, aren't we?"

Barry swivelled in his chair so his back was to the man. He rolled his eyes at Jane.

"Gerry, it's what we get paid to do," Jane reminded him. "National Park Rescue Service? The badge on your jacket? Remember?"

The man she called 'Gerry' stood up and pulled his waistband up and over a growing beer belly. "You two get paid for that. I'm just the desk guy. I shouldn't be out there."

"You're not, Gerald," Frost said, purposely using the full name. "Probably won't be, either, unless the Fellby kids need someone to come down to the camp and model as a snowman.

"Very funny," he said. He poured himself a cup of coffee and squinted out the window. "Fuckin' snow."

"Yeah," Jane drawled. "Imagine snow in Colorado. In the mountains."

Truth was, she didn't like the snow either, at least not in this kind of weather. Snow was meant to be formed into balls and used for battles and fake wars, or a canvas to be drawn upon with skis or snowboards, perfect white carved by fearlessness and speed. This was just a blanket, heavy and suffocating that held little comfort. She got paid whether or not she had to go out and do her job, and on days like this, she was more than happy to sit and collect a paycheck, if only because it meant no one needed her help. A knock on the door broke up the monotony of the view.

"Jesus, Steve, get your ass in here." Gerry pulled the door open and frowned at the snow squall that blew in.

The man stamped his feet on the mat and lifted his goggles to his forehead. His eyes were the only thing not covered by winter clothing or snow. His serious face was the first sign something was wrong.

"We closed the Lodge," he said, getting right to the point.

Jane nodded. The Lodge was the ski resort a mile up the hill, a tourist magnet known for its hills and hot tub. It didn't surprise her to find out they shut up shop. They'd give guests a window of time to leave, but after that, no one would be allowed to leave, and no one would get in. "Makes sense. What's up, Steve?"

"We're missing a guest."

"Shit," Gerry said. "I fucking knew it!"

Ignoring the outburst, Frost said, "Kinda leaving it late, aren't you, Steve?"

He shrugged, knowing Frost was right. The weather was almost too far gone to put a rescue team together. "We didn't notice she was missing until Ellis finally make the decision to close it down. By the time we did a roll call, well, we got-" He gestured to the window.

"Typical Ellis," Jane said. She wasn't a big fan of the lodge owner who was notorious for cutting corners to get an extra dollar. "Does he think we're going to be able to find anyone in this? Or was he just worried if he didn't make a report he'd get sued?"

Steve shrugged again. "I'm only the messenger, Jane. What you do is up to you and no one's going to say otherwise."

She sighed. If there was someone out there, she wasn't going to turn her back on them, regardless of the conditions.

"You got the info on this guest?" she asked.

"Yeah." He went through a series of zippers and buttons until he could reach into his jacket and put out some papers. "That's her registration and a copy of her ski pass. You're not going to need it, though."

"Oh?"

He smiled for the first time. "You should know who she is." He waited until he had drawn out the maximum amount of suspense. "Maura Isles."

Gerry's mouth opened in disbelief. "The Olympic skier?"

"No," Frost snarked, "the Olympic cake maker. Of course, the skier."

"Just to clarify, yeah, the skier," Steve said, verbally stepping in between the men. He looked at Jane for help. "You okay?"

She thought she might get sick but she quickly pasted a neutral expression on her face. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good." She coughed the bile from her throat. "How long has she been missing?"

"We did the call at 3. Her credit card bill had her in the restaurant at 12:30. The waiter said she left at 1. The lift operator thinks the last time he saw her was around 2. We closed the lift same time we closed the doors."

"So she's been out there for at least 2 hours," Frost guessed.

"That's what I'm thinking," Steve agreed.

"Two hours in this?" Gerry asked. "I've got 10 bucks on 'slim to none'."

Jane's eyes blazed. "If you don't want to do your job, then at least sit your ass down before I plant it in the chair for you."

Gerry held up his hands in mock surrender and sat. Frost and Steve shared a look.

Biting her thumb, she paced a square, then pulled out the maps. "Okay, so let's figure out the maximum distance she could've gone in 2 hours."

Frost sat up straight. "Wait. You're really thinking of going out in this?"

She pinned him with a look. "So you don't want to do your job, either?"

"Hey!" he protested. "You think that?"

She knew her question was a knee-jerk one. Frost was one of the most reliable, honest men she knew. He would run through a wall for her, and she knew it was unfair to lump him in the same group as Gerry.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

He accepted her apology by standing beside her at the table. Doing some quick calculations in his head, he made a circle with his finger. "On foot, she'd be somewhere in this area. I'd start at those edges and work in."

"But she was on skis, or did you forget?" Gerry asked.

"Yeah, but she's not going to be skiing in this, is she, smart guy?" Frost retorted.

"To be sure," Steve interjected, "we called the tourist info at the bottom. No sign of her. Hell, we even called old man Erickson to see if she'd knocked on his door. Nothing."

"She wouldn't be that far east." Everyone looked at Frost. "What? She's an Olympic skier. She'll want to run the double black."

'Double black' or 'double black diamond' was the most technically difficult slope the Klegg region had to offer. Few tried it, and those who did often ended up coming off the slope in an ambulance. Jane didn't want to contemplate the possibility, but she knew Frost was probably right.

Gerry grunted. "At least that narrows down the area, right? If she went that way, she's somewhere between Plymouth Peak and the Point."

Jane let the words settle. "Okay. Steve, you going back to the Lodge or down to the info station?"

"As much as I hate to do it, I gotta go back up. Ellis won't think of calling you if Isles shows up and the last thing I need is for you to be stomping all over the mountain side in this weather."

She agreed. "I'll get Gerry to go to the info station."

"What?" Gerry exclaimed.

"We need someone there who can take care of the situation if she shows up," she explained slowly, as if speaking to a child.

He threw a glare at Frost. "What's he gonna do?"

"He's going to stay here." Both men began to protest but she shut them down with a firm, "Stop!" Having their begrudging attention, she said, "Radio in this weather won't make it to me from the info station or the Lodge. You'll have to call here, and someone will have to pass the call to me."

"So he gets to sit on his ass in the warmth while I gotta trudge down the hill in this shit?" Gerry snarled.

"Let me give you a little push out the door," Frost offered. "You can roll your fat ass to the bottom."

Jane had had enough. "You want the truth, Gerry? Here it is- if I find Maura, chances are, she's not going to be in good shape, and I'm going to need someone to come help me. Does that make you feel better?"

He frowned, not sure if what she said was positive or not.

"I get it, Jane," Frost replied. "I don't like it, but I get it."

Steve zipped everything back up and settled the goggles over his eyes. "You guys sort it out however you want, but if I'm gonna go, I better go now. It's not getting any better out there."

Gerry mumbled something under his breath, but out loud said, "Give me a sec to get ready, Steve. I'll walk you to the junction."

As he began his layering in the corner, Frost turned to Jane. "You sure about this?"

"I'm only going between the Peak and the Point," she assured him. "And I'll take Felix." At the sound of his name, a giant Husky clamoured from his bed and sat at her feet. "Good boy," she said while scratching behind his ears.

"I can't believe we named the dog 'Felix'."

Jane shook her head at Frost. "You wanted to name him 'Indiana'!"

"Yeah, you know, like Indiana Jones. 'We named the dog Indiana'." His Sean Connery impression added some much needed levity to the room. When their laughter died away, he leaned closer. "You want to tell me about it?"

"Tell you about what?"

"C'mon, Jane. You practically turned green when you heard who was missing. You called her 'Maura'."

She moved away, using her own preparations as an excuse to avoid his point. "That's her name, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh." When she didn't say anything more, he held up his hands. "Okay."

His surrender made her feel guilty. He was a good man and a better friend. When she first came to Colorado and joined the Rescue Service, he was the first to welcome her, the only woman in the course. Their instructor was so impressed at how well they worked together that he recommended them as a pair when the Klegg station came open. She knew she could trust him with her life, and had done so on more than one occasion.

Looking over both shoulders while she pulled up her ski pants, she said, "I know her."

"Yeah, she's a famous Olympian. Everyone knows her."

"No, Frost. I know her." She forced the point home with a look.

The light bulb went on over his head. He couldn't believe it. "You know Maura Isles?"

"Keep your voice down!" she hissed. "Yeah, I know her." She gave her head a rueful shake. "I knew her."

"When? How?" Her facial expression nipped any further questions in the bud. "Okay, okay. Let's get you ready. But you know you're gonna have to tell me one day, right?"

Her eyeroll answered the question.

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