Author Note: Back again...the final chapter of Bartender is already written and ready to be posted tomorrow evening. This story is another one I don't really have planned, so who knows where it will go, but I am intrigued by the concept so I hope you will be too.

"Doctor Maura Isles," she said, holding up her ID card on her way through the police tape. She searched the small crowd of uniformed officers and headed for the one who looked most senior. "Is the detective here yet?"

"Detective Rizzoli's always late," he said, folding his arms. She could see the frustrated crease between his eyebrows and wondered if this was what she had to look forward to.

Maura narrowed her eyes. "It's three o'clock in the morning, what could possibly be delaying her?"

He shrugged and returned to his conversation.

Maura sighed. She tapped the officer on the shoulder. "Officer…?"

"Bucks."

"Office Bucks, without Detective Rizzoli, I can't do my job. The more time that passes evidence could be disappearing before our very eyes."

He stared at his colleagues, his lips curved. She heard the distinct sound of a chuckle before he turned back to her. "Look, Lady, I'm as pissed at Detective Rizzoli being late as the rest of us. I ain't got a magic wand, and neither does your evidence."

"I'm well aware of that," Maura said. "There's no scientific evidence that magic is real. There is, however, scientific proof of the deterioration of evidence as time passes. If you won't call your superior and find out how long Detective Rizzoli will be..."

"You must be Doctor Isles." She turned. Standing behind her was a tall woman, with hair that looked like it could do with some attention, and large bags underneath her eyes. She held her hand out. "Detective Jane Rizzoli."

Maura stared down at her fingers, which were covered in some unidentified brown substance.

Jane shrugged and wiped her hand. "Sorry about that, I fell asleep eating a Hershey bar."

The hand reappeared between them, the stain barely wiped away. Maura narrowed her eyes and glanced back up at Detective Rizzoli, ignoring her hand. She opened her mouth, curtness in her voice. "I don't need pleasantries. Perhaps you can secure the scene so that we can all return to our lives?"

Sadness flashed across her face, the briefest of moments that Maura nearly missed. She made a note of it. So often she missed the smallest of cues, and she didn't much care to rub anyone's back up if she could help it.

They ambled across the front yard. Maura followed close behind as Jane spoke to Officer Bucks. Once he'd verified what he'd witnessed, she stood tall and commanded the power Maura expected.

"I know it's late, but canvas the streets. Speak to anyone you see. Find out everything you can." Officer Bucks rolled his eyes at his colleagues and laughed. Jane folded her arms and glared at them. "You wanna take your games elsewhere and send me some real cops, or are you gonna do your damn work?"

They marched off, a seriousness about them. When Detective Rizzoli turned her back, Maura could see them return to laughter and jokes. She was about to highlight it when Jane spoke again.

"You called your team?"

Maura nodded. "They're on standby down the street."

"Good." She nodded at the pair of gloves in Maura's hand. "You got any spares?"

Sighing, Maura pulled out a box and handed it over. She snapped the gloves over her hands and returned the box. Maura places it in her medical bag and took out two pairs of shoe cover.

"Thanks," Jane said, with an apologetic smirk.

Following protocol, Maura put on her shoe covers and gloves and followed Jane into the house.

By the time her team had arrived, she had gathered enough information to form a picture of the woman's final moment. She peeled off her sixth pair of gloves and disposed of them in a bag she kept in her pocket.

"You know," Maura said. "The likeliness of cross contamination of evidence is high when you wear only one pair of gloves."

Jane stared at her, her eyebrows tugged together. She looked almost disappointed. She cleared her throat, a wall went up. "I barely touched anything."

"You touched the door when we entered the room. You then trailed your fingertip across the mantle." Jane's facade crumbled with every indiscretion. "They say you're the best. Youngest woman to make homicide detective. Ever. I'll admit that from what I've seen tonight, you barely live up to your reputation."

Her words appeared to hit a nerve, and Maura felt a little guilty. "Watch yourself, Doctor."

"I'm merely reflecting on what I've watched tonight." She stepped forward and tilted her head, her eyes fixed on Jane's jaw. "Do you get headaches? Facial pain? Earache?"

Jane frowned, taken aback. "Sometimes."

"Bruxism."

"What?"

"Excuse me."

"I said what?"

"I heard you. I corrected you."

"Well, aren't you a barrel of laughs." Jane folded her arms again. "I didn't understand what you were saying."

"Bruxism. You grind your teeth. Presumably due to stress or anxiety. Common symptoms include facial pain, head and earache."

"Hey, I'm not stressed," Jane said, standing up tall, her jaw clenched.

Maura held her hand up. "I apologise. You appear to do it when you feel your authority is being threatened."

"How to win friends and influence people, hey," Jane said, rolling her eyes.

Maura could see her line of questioning was only causing further distress, so she changed tactic. "Sometimes it helps if someone else points out a problem."

"Yeah." Jane smirked. "And sometimes it helps if you shove an ice cube up your ass. But I wouldn't recommend it."

Aghast, Maura stared at her briefly before responding. "It never helps to push an ice cube into your anus."

"Exactly," Jane said, turning tail and marching away.

On reflection, Maura could see exactly where she went wrong. She made the mistake time and time again, but she couldn't help it. She was frequently concerned about the medical needs of strangers. Knowing how expensive medical costs were, Maura anticipated that not giving someone the full facts as she established them could prove quite costly later on. However, it always sought to cause problems with building relationships.

"Detective Rizzoli," she said, following her back onto the street towards her parked car.

"I'm going home," Jane said. "Job done. Nothing more to do tonight."

"Wait," Maura said, stopping beside her car. "I just wanted to apologise, if I came across rude."

"If?" Jane scoffed.

"I'm sorry for being rude." Maura sighed. "I have a habit of diagnosing people."

"And then some." Jane glanced off in the opposite direction and turned to open her car door.

Maura cleared her throat. "I can appear rude, but I promise you that wasn't my intention. You, however, are now failing to recognise my attempt to apologise."

"I don't have time for his," Jane said, pulling open her door.

Lowering her gaze, Maura turned away. She felt sad that attempt to fix her mistake hadn't been well received. Under the dull light of the street lamp, Maura caught sight of someone in the back seat of Jane's car. She opened her mouth to speak when the small form moved, two child sized arms stretched up and they yawned.

"Detective Rizzoli."

Jane stopped midway into her car and stared at Maura. "Yeah?"

"Why do you have a child in your car? It's nearly five in the morning."

The frustration on her face crumbled, replaced with tiredness she partly recognised. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared. The brusqueness of Jane Rizzoli returned. "None of your business."

She resisted the urge to explain that any sign of child neglect or abandonment was the responsibility of anyone the child came into contact with. But she thought better of it. Detective Rizzoli was already angry and it wouldn't help matters.

Maura reached into her medical bag and took out a card and a pen. She scribbled on the back and handed it over. "If you ever can't find childcare at three in the morning, you should bring the child to my home. I have a three year old. My husband is very understanding and will be able to watch them both. He has all of the necessary checks, if that's what worries you."

Jane grunted, her face contorted with an expression Maura wasn't familiar with. She considered saying something more when Jane took the card and spoke. "Thanks, I probably won't need it, but thanks."

x

Seventeen hours later, Maura crawling into bed and wrapped her body up in the bedsheets. She closed her eyes. The day was long and her body ached with exhaustion that only came when she was called out in the night. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the house and the street outside.

The faucet in the bathroom dripped. She made a mental note to get her contractor to fix it while he remodeled the downstairs bathroom. A car drove past the house. In the distance, a dog barked twice before silence descended once more.

Five minutes later, there was a loud banging on the door, followed by the doorbell. Maura closed her eyes tightly, hoping that whoever was disturbing their peace would go away. She expected no visitors and there were no reasons for a call so late. Another round of incessant knocking pulled her from her desire to ignore the caller.

Maura climbed out of bed and rushed down the staircase. There were very few reasons why someone might knock like that after ten, and Maura's heart could only think of the most dramatic.

"I'm coming," she said, as loudly as possible, without shouting over the continued knock. She pulled open the door, and on the other side stood Detective Jane Rizzoli. Resting over her shoulder was the small child, his tanned skin peered out from his hooded sweatshirt, a tuft of dark brown hair on show. "Detective Rizzoli, I wasn't expecting you to take me up on my offer quite so soon."

The wall that held firm earlier in the night crumbled a little, revealing behind it cracks that Maura could tell ran deep. Jane chewed on the inside of her lip. "I'm sorry for being a bitch earlier. I wasn't gonna come here. I don't even know you. But…I don't have anywhere else to go."

Maura held her arm out and stepped aside. "Come on in."