Just a fast and furious one shot for those who'd rather take their Rizzles in concentrated form - because my other story is all about the sloooooooow burn.

Not related to my other fic whatsoever. Warning: this story is a total R&I fanfiction cliche in every way. It brings absolutely nothing new to the table whatsoever, but I totally loved writing it anyway...

[Joining the fight against Rizzoli & Isles Induced Blueballs Syndrome since 2011]

When it finally happened, it happened fast. One minute they were Rizzoli and Isles, talking about work and what to order in for dinner and the next minute they were Jane and Maura, ripping each other's clothes off. There was no time for processing, no more time to let the slow-building burn consume them, no time for another single second of the agonising will we or won't we, are we or aren't we dance that had become so gut-wrenchingly familiar to Jane in its maddening ambiguity, each woman refusing in her own way to acknowledge that there was anything at all to acknowledge.

When it finally, finally happened, there wasn't even a real catalyst that could be pointed to, something that could be logically explained has having been the thing that had thrown them over the edge. In the moments of weakness when Jane had allowed herself to daydream exactly what extreme chain of events would have to occur in order to offer sudden, crystal-clear, unequivocal, life-altering proof to Maura's careful scientific brain that despite all the valid reasons of gender, friendship and working-relationship, Jane was the one she had been searching for all along, the imaginary scenarios had varied from life-threateningly dramatic to catastrophic-apocalyptic.

Even while she recovered from her real life injuries, Jane had passed the time in her hospital bed by throwing herself in front of all manner of imaginary speeding bullets for Maura, waiting to feel Maura's arms again wrapped around her own personal hero, kisses raining down with her tears, crying out words of love and longing, before realising the bullet vest had saved her, that she was merely winded, kisses now interspersed with laughter, the cat out the bag at last. Maura was the only person in the world by whom Jane really wanted to be thought of as a hero, so over and over again, Jane saved Maura from countless bad guys, Bass from the path of speeding buses and trains, took out would-be murderers and terrorists and violent crack addicts, each time purely in order for Maura to swoon in her arms, rendered weak-kneed by Jane's ferocity or her perfectly sculpted forearms as she gripped her gun in Maura's defence. No matter that in real life Maura had witnessed Jane in a multitude of similar situations and had reacted with nothing but friendly gratitude and quiet concern. In Jane's dreams Maura never held herself in such perfect check.

Sometimes, late at night, as she lay in bed alone, the plot got more heated. She and Maura, an undercover assignment gone wrong, the two of them hiding out in the dark waiting for back-up, bodies pressed together for safety, and then for comfort, and then all danger forgotten as Maura twisted in her arms and searched out her mouth in the dark. Under the covers Jane's hand would slide lower, slowly working out her frustration at the belief that nothing short of desperate, unassailable, life-threatening danger was going to do the trick.

And yet, when it finally happened, there wasn't a single bad guy in sight. Just the two of them standing around in Jane's kitchen, while Maura poured the wine. Jane's gun was safely locked in a drawer and her impressive forearms were involved in nothing more strenuous than shoving her hands into her pockets, forcing them not to reach out and wander over the perfect curves of Maura's waist in that goddamn distracting dress she'd been wearing all day. And that was when Maura had turned and caught the look on her face. Her mouth opened to ask, but then her cheeks flushed and her mouth closed again. Her lashes dropped to hide her eyes and she half-turned away, her delicate fingers encircling the stem of one of the wineglasses. Pausing for a second, as if coming to a decision, she let go of the glass and turned around again, and this time she let her gaze drift right over Jane, taking in her stiff posture, her shallow breathing and the way her perfectly benign expression was ruined by the fact she kept nervously wetting her lips with her tongue. Maura gazed steadily at her, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth and her eyes sparkling, filled - as they often were as she looked at her friend - with a combination of amusement and indulgent love.

And in the end, that was all it took. It was finally too much, just too fucking much to bear. Simply one too many lingering gazes between them, one too many seconds of intense, longing eye contact. How many times could one person find herself the target of Dr. Maura Isles' impossibly explicit bedroom eyes and not just break apart? She'd been so strong for so long, so careful, so held-together, but Jane finally broke, right then and there. She didn't even stop to think, her body reacting split-seconds ahead of her brain, her feet moving the two steps closer she needed to be while her hands escaped their pocket prison, grabbing for what they'd wanted all along, (the right - Maura's hip, the left - Maura's face) and she wiped the smirk off Maura's lips with her own mouth. I can't, her brain screamed, it's too much already, I can't stop this anymore. And then she stopped thinking anything coherent at all, as all her senses were overwhelmed by the aching softness under her fingers and the incredible warm wet of Maura's mouth as she kissed her, firmly, insistently. She was so overcome by the build-up of countless months of frustration and her need for Maura to follow through on the implied threat and promise of those bedroom eyes that it took at least half a minute for her to catch up with Maura's reaction, or even care.

As she waited for her fate to befall her, Jane decided that this moment, right here in her own kitchen, gun-less and badge-less, was her one truly heroic action of her whole life, the only one she deserved a fucking medal for. In exactly the same way as when her hand had grabbed at Bobby's gun and fired the shot through herself, her body had reacted first, allowing her brain to catch up seconds afterwards, only this time it was far, far scarier. She was kissing Maura, hungrily, without hiding anymore what all her hints and teases had always hidden just as clearly as they revealed, and yet she half-expected Maura to pull away, crying out for Jane to stop. Part of her was revelling in finally managing to truly shock the neatly poised Dr. Isles, but that part of her was the angry part, the part that had felt taunted and tempted into finally hitting boiling point. The rest of her was already regretting the damage that shock was about to do to Maura, and to their friendship.

Slowly she became cognisant of a searing pain in her lower back that appeared to be the direct result of Maura's fingernails digging into her skin as she gripped Jane's hips against her own. Maura's tongue was in her mouth and while the scratch across her back still stung, Maura's hands had already migrated to her chest, her fists against Jane's collarbones, her fingers tugging and pulling urgently at shirt buttons, causing Jane to choke slightly, moaning against Maura's mouth. She felt Maura smile into her lips and she tangled her hands in the soft glossy curls of the doctor's hair as she gripped the back of Maura's neck to kiss her harder. Maura is nowhere near as shocked as she should be. Exactly how long has she been waiting for me to get my shit together and do this? A long, long time indeed it seemed, since Jane's work-shirt had barely hit the ground before her pants were being hurriedly undone.

She pulled back from the kiss to look at Maura's face, trying to get a handle on what was really happening, finally, really happening. Maura's smile had entirely disappeared, her hand reaching up to squeeze Jane's shoulder, hanging on grimly as if for dear life. "Fuck Jane…" she gasped breathlessly, and it was Jane's turn to smirk as she heard Maura Isles simultaneously swear aloud and announce her true intentions regarding her best friend, both for the first time in Jane's presence. It was an impossibly sexy sight, Dr. Isles' pressed against her, blushing and breathless, the long-held message in her eyes unveiled in its entirety for once - I want you - no questions, no hesitation.

"Maura…" was all she managed to respond, her voice so husky it was a broken down growl, before she found herself pulled her into another searing kiss, as Maura pushed up off from the kitchen counter and stumbled backwards. Jane's hands found the tiny zipper tag at the back of Dr. Isles' dress. Unzip me, her brain recalled to her, in the doctor's own flirtatious voice, replaying the moment Maura had batted her eyelashes at her as she made her demand. What the actual fuck? Did I need her to bash me over the head with a brick or something? Jane was not going to miss another hint like that in her life. They were already halfway down the hallway before she'd gotten the tight zipper all the way down, the two of them moving blindly through the dim apartment on instinct alone. Jane's back crashed into the doorway of her bedroom as she pulled her best friend's body tightly into hers, letting both her hands slide up the soft skin of Maura's bare back to pull the loosened dress down over slim shoulders, so that when she stepped back the fabric fell in a silky pool between their feet. Jane's breath kept coming in tiny ragged gasps as she leaned back to feast her eyes on her friend's nearly naked body, while Maura tugged her backwards into the bedroom by the waistband of her pants, jerking them down over her hips. Jane hopped and wriggled out of them just in time to hit the edge of the bed, pulling Maura down with her, groans escaping both women as their bodies entangled in the sensation of skin-to-skin for the first time.

Oh god, Maura was so impossibly soft and smooth, even more so than she'd ever imagined. I have to have her, she was panting now, racing towards her runner's high, as she pinned the other woman beneath her, one thigh pressing Maura's apart. Even so she couldn't quite seem to catch up with Maura's want, as the smaller woman jerked her hips up impatiently, tugging her own underwear down as she arched and writhed. There was no time for seduction, for teasing, for concerns about technique or to imagine ways to draw it out, Jane simply held on tight, kissing Maura's throat, lips, and collarbone as Maura gripped onto her back, her slick centre pressing hard against Jane's strong thigh as she pushed up for contact over and over again. Jane briefly wondered if she might in fact, pass out, watching as her best friend's eyes flashed up at her with desperation, before squeezing tightly shut with pleasure and release rapidly overwhelming her.

Maura was almost silent as she came, her mouth clenching with the shock of it before falling open in a ragged gasp. Her throat curved backwards as her back arched, both hands squeezing Jane's hips so hard the detective knew she'd be bruised for days. She fought to regain her breath, then reached down to stroke a strand of honey-blonde hair back from the doctor's face, only to find herself shoved off and onto her back. Her eyes widened as she looked up to see a look of lustful determination on the other woman's flushed face, before her own underwear was tugged away and tossed unceremoniously on the floor, followed by a brief but effective struggle with her bra. Before Jane quite knew what hit her, there was an abrupt repositioning of her limbs and she felt as well as heard the mmmm escaping Maura's throat as her tongue traced it's way hungrily through Jane's painfully obvious arousal.

The detective's body almost rebounded off the bed, held barely in place by Maura's surprisingly strong hands. This was not the tentative, explorative love-making she'd imagined might one day occur between them, after hours of careful, fact-based, scientific analysis of the pros and cons of taking such a step together. This was a hungry satisfying of mutual needs left tantalised and unmet for so long they'd turned desperate. Jane had always imagined that if she'd ever gotten the chance, she'd need to take it slowly with Maura. One day, a long-awaited truthful conversation, then maybe a first date, ending up with a soft, romantic kiss goodnight. Making love would be something they worked up to, taking as much time and care as she'd imagined would be required in moving their relationship up such a serious notch. As her hips bucked up again into Maura's face, and she heard the strangled hungry gasp of "oh god, yes please, Jane…" she realised she'd been wrong about a lot of things Maura-related. This was nothing short of revelatory. Maura's lips and tongue were so…ohhh god, they were too…oh fuck..oh god…oh Maura, shit - Maura!…everything went blindingly white as she felt herself rocked to the core, collapsing under Maura's touch as effectively as she would a gunshot, stunned at how quickly she'd been reduced to a complete quivering mess.

She wasn't allowed to recover either. Opening her eyes, she looked directly up into the face of her beautiful breathless friend, leaning down to kiss her with one smouldering Jane-scented kiss, before pulling aside and murmuring with her lips brushing against her earlobe, "Give me your fingers, Jane…I want you inside me…so badly."

Jane had come three times in shockingly rapid succession, and Maura four, before finally the doctor's petite body collapsed beside her and Jane could just trail her fingers along the other woman's silky skin and gaze at her, taking it all in. So far there'd been no conversation whatsoever between them besides the occasional gasped begging, and groaned satisfaction. It was probably the longest the two women had spent together - ever - without verbally sparring. The thought and its implication made Jane smirk. Dr. Isles tilted her head on the pillow they were sharing and raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes Jane?" she enquired, the usual, everyday briskness of her tone providing such a marked contrast to her thoroughly dishevelled appearance, that Jane suddenly wondered if the past hour of her life had been yet another daydream she'd wandered off to in the middle of a tricky part of a case.

"Yes Jane?" mimicked the detective, gazing at her in disbelief. "Really? That's all you have right now?"

"Well, what should I be saying, do you think?" Maura asked seriously, her apparent calmness with the situation irking Jane more than she was willing to admit. "I'm not really familiar with the exact social protocol one follows immediately after bedding their best friend."

Jane raised herself up on one elbow, leaning over to examine the other woman's face. "You could start by explaining why you didn't tell me about…this…" Jane gestured at their naked entangled limbs "…earlier?"

"Which part exactly?" Maura's voice remained demure but her eyes were twinkling dangerously. "The part where I've been desiring you deeply, or the part where I knew we would be rather more than compatible in the bedroom when we finally made it there?"

Jane gently gripped the smaller woman by her chin, forcing her to meet her eyes. "The part where you knew, that I…that I want more than…that I can't…" she choked a little bit, unable to finish. Maura gazed back at her with clear amusement and Jane hated herself a little for failing to make her meaning entirely clear.

"You wanted me to tell you that you wanted me?" clarified Maura, her eyes following her fingers as they traced their way appreciatively down the detective's taut abdominal muscles.

"Yes! I mean, no! Jesus Maura…" she grabbed the doctor's fingers, holding them still. "I've just…I've been in agony over this, for - god - for months! Maybe even longer…and then finally, I end up acting on it - totally by accident - and it turns out you're not remotely surprised, and you seem, uh, quite into the whole thing yourself - " Maura laughed causing Jane to shoot her a wounded glare " - and now I realise I must have been blindingly obvious all along! So if I've been wanting you and you've been wanting me, then please, explain to me…why exactly did we take so long to get here?"

"You weren't ready," replied Maura matter of factly, her shoulders shrugging slightly against the pillow. Jane regarded her archly.

"And you were?" she shot back.

"Yes! I've been ready for you for months, Jane. Waiting for you, in fact." She smirked at the brunette's aghast expression. "Patience is not one of your many virtues Jane, but it is mine. It's had to be."

Jane was about to object, feeling that from her point of view she'd been more than patient, saint-like in her patience in fact, but then her mind snagged on the impossible realisation that despite their frantic entangling, Maura's bra - though twisted and tugged beyond repair - was somehow still in place - or, well, mostly in place. Truly shocked at herself now - christ I've been dying to get a real eyeful of those since I don't even know when...to the point I've probably disgraced myself in public more than once - she immediately pinned Maura flat with her own body, reaching around and undoing the straps, pulling the damaged garment away and chucking the offending piece of fabric away onto the floor. Patience is overrated anyhow. She groaned in extremely happy appreciation, "Ugh, damnit, Maura…" and buried her face exactly where she'd always wanted to.

Twenty minutes later as their gasps and cries slowly settled back into slow ragged breathing again, Jane managed to wrench herself away long enough to pad naked to the kitchen, tripping and cursing twice on discarded items of clothing along the way, before returning with a large glass of water in each hand. She handed one to Maura, who gulped at it gratefully, before rolling aside to place the glass on the bedside cabinet. Her bedside cabinet - the only one with a coaster - on her side of the bed where she always slept when she stayed over. The bedside cabinet that also held a drawer of her own pyjamas, underwear and pantyhose, just like the third of Jane's closet space that was taken up by Maura's work clothes, and the entire rack of Maura's shoes at her front door. Jane paused, standing next to the bed, her water forgotten as she rubbed her eyes in confusion, seeing the scene before her as if for the first time. Maura's things everywhere, Maura's side of the bed, Maura in her bed…Jane's jaw dropped a little as the realisation hit her: Maura naked in her bed was actually the one thing that made a scenario like this remotely normal.

"Oh, Jane…" Maura's facial expression when Jane glanced down was immensely gratifying, her hazel eyes openly admiring the entirely naked stretch of body standing before her. Jane had always longed to see that particular look on Maura's face directed squarely at her, which was why it always made her incredibly cranky when the doctor openly oogled men's muscles in the gym instead. She'd always ended up raging internally that she had quite the fucking perfect musculature herself if only Maura cared to notice. Oh, she's been noticing alright… the detective struggled to keep the triumphant realisation away from her face. "Jane, you really, really need to come back to bed, right this minute," Maura licked her lips with such a blatantly acquisitive look that Jane actually shivered with pleasure, pausing for another long moment as she drank thirstily from her glass, and then did as she was told.

Maura immediately pressed her warm body flush up against Jane's long, momentarily cooled one, nestling her face into the detective's neck and running her hands slowly down over her back and buttocks before drifting up over her hip and ribs, and around, and down again. For a moment Jane's brain felt entirely at peace as she shut it all down and just revelled in the almost unbearable softness of Maura's breasts against her own, the scent of her body, her dark golden hair tickling her nose, and the perfect fit of her hip in the curve of Jane's hand. Then she pulled back to eye the doctor warily.

"We're…we're a couple, aren't we?" she asked, waving her hand around the room by way of explanation. "I mean, we just…we are, and….this just makes it make more sense, doesn't it? That's why you're not remotely freaked out right now."

Maura's smile was dazzling as the detective finally caught up. "We're a pair, that's for sure," she agreed, her eyes filled with such victorious happiness and warmth that Jane knew quite clearly she'd been a grade-A jackass to have hesitated and angsted about this for so long. She wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

"Just so we're clear," she spoke gruffly in her everyday, mildly exasperated, explaining-the-basics-of-normal-human-interaction-to-Maura voice, "I'm in love with you. You okay with that?"

Maura nodded, then kissed her, then nodded again. "Yes, I'm okay with that," she murmured thoughtfully. "I'm okay with it...if you are - being in love with me - I mean," a small flicker of concern crossed her brow for the first time since the scene in the kitchen.

"Maur," Jane cupped the smaller woman's face with both hands, that one tiny frown prompting her to decide then and there never to let Maura have any further cause for uncertainty about her feelings, ever again. "I'm okay with it. Believe me." She kissed her…friend….her lover…her Dr. Isles…thoroughly. "You uh, you love me back, right?" she prodded, realising maybe the doctor hadn't been kidding when she'd admitted to not knowing the correct social protocol for the situation at hand. Maura looked startled and then upset.

"So much, Jane. I love you, so, so much," the words rushed out of her breathlessly. "How could you not know that?"

"I knew it," Jane rolled onto her back, taking advantage of how light and pliable Maura was to pull across and on top of her. "I just wanted to hear you say it."