Right To Be Wrong

Rating: PG-13, for now.

Summary: Ian is back in Boston and Jane isn't sure what that means for she and Maura.

A/N: I'm several chapters into a serial killer fic that I am determined to finish before I start posting. I wrote this when I needed a break from that. A short fic, this will only be a couple of chapters. It is already written, so hopefully that will speed up the updates. Will be M eventually.

Also, I read A LOT of fic. So I know that there are other "Ian" stories out there. It's a fun plot to write and a lot of people have done/are doing/will do so. I've read and enjoyed some of them, too. If there are any similarities, they are completely unintentional!

"Yes!" Detective Jane Rizzoli pumped her fist in victory.

Her partner peered over his computer at her. "You found Brockman's car?"

"What?" Jane glanced over before dismissing him with a wave of her hand. "No. But I am right and she is wrong."

"She?"

"Yup." Leaning between their desks, she ripped a sheet of paper off the printer and rose. "Keep on the car, Frost. I'm…I gotta go downstairs. For something. It's important."

"Rizzoli!"

"Five minutes!" Jane turned around and walked backwards, addressing the sergeant striding up the hall. "Give me five, Vince."

"You need to hear—" Vincent Korsak cut himself off. The sound of the stairway door slamming closed proved there was no point in saying more.

"Maur!" Jane stepped into the morgue and shouted impatiently for her girlfriend. "Maura?"

"Ah, Detective?"

Maura's newest technician peeked around the corner and Jane searched her brain for a name. Rotolo. Rosolo. Rolo! Like the chocolates, Maura had instructed her.

"Rolo. Hi. Dr. Isles. Is she here?"

"Actually, Detective Rizzoli, the Chief asked me to run her tox screens this afternoon. I have the Brockman results. I assume you're looking for this?" He held out the file.

Maura would kick your ass for using the word assume, kid.

"Uh, right. Sure." Jane grabbed the folder and slapped it against her thigh. "Thanks." She slapped the folder again and glanced around the empty room. "For this. Thanks for this."

"No problem." The tech smiled at her and Jane wondered briefly if his grin was meant to be flirtatious. He was young, but still…someone should tell him it came off creepy, right?

"Your parents dentists or something, Rolo?" She plowed on while he narrowed his eyes in confusion. "'Cause those beamers you are flashing—"

"Jane."

She stopped at the sound of her name, instantly recognizing the amused warmth and mild warning in Maura's tone. Rolo the Chocolates would be spared the life lesson. His loss.

Turning on the heel of her boots, Jane took a moment to look the doctor up and down. Windblown and unusually disheveled, Maura Isles was still the picture of sex appeal.

And she's all mine, Jane thought. But there were more important things to worry about at the moment.

"You were wrong."

Maura's eyes widened at Jane's announcement and her shoulders drooped. "I know. But, Jane, I swear, I didn't know—"

Jane waved a hand in the air to stop Maura's speech. She wasn't going to Google-speak her way out of this one. "No. No talking."

"But—"

"Not a word, Maura."

"Fine." The doctor waited a beat before lowering her voice to a whisper. "I was wrong. But can I—"

Jane clucked her tongue. "No. Uh uh. You were wrong. Now stand there in your wrongness and be wrong."

Maura allowed herself a small grin. "Wrongness is not a word."

"It's from West Wing, the tv show…You know what, it doesn't matter." Jane wasn't going to get off track. "It's a word today. Because today I am right and you are wrong."

Maura's head bowed, an obvious sign of acquiesce. "Jane, I assure you, I had no idea he was coming to Boston. Ian and I—"

Jane bowled over Maura's words, slapping her paper down on the autopsy table between them. "I have proof. Science-y, factual proof, Doctor Isles."

"Science-y? The English language is taking quite the beating today."

"Whatever. It says here that your turtle gets excited when it rains. That means it was not my dog that caused—Wait." Jane's thoughts screeched to a halt. She could practically hear the tires peel in her head. "Back up. Did you say 'Ian'?"

Maura's wince was a sufficient response.

"You did. You said Ian. You said you had no idea Ian was in Boston. He's here. And you've seen him." It wasn't a question. Maura's inability to lie wasn't a commitment to moral conviction. It was because her eyes had already given her away. Every time.

Maura glanced at the "proof" Jane had slapped between them. Apparently the detective had come downstairs to discuss a different kind of wrong. Though the printout from National Geographic charmed her, she was wise to clear her expression before pushing the sheet across the table and nodding. "He's in Boston. He stopped by the precinct to…to say hello."

"Hello. Right. Ok. And?" There was more to the story. Her intestines said so.

"And I know Vince saw us kissing in the parking lot but—"

"Korsak saw you kissing?"

Maura mentally slapped herself. She couldn't lie, that was absolute. But why did she have to tell so much truth?

Rushing around the table, Maura grabbed Jane by the wrists. "He kissed me, Jane. He kissed me. I barely knew who was grabbing me before he kissed me."

Jane wanted to cover her ears with both hands but Maura held them too tightly. She settled for a dull hum instead. Training her eyes on a spot just above Maura's shoulder, she growled. "Maura. I swear, if you say 'he kissed me' one more time, so help me…"

"It meant nothing."

"God." The word expelled from Jane's chest on a rush of breath. "A cliché, Maura? From you?"

"Clichés are often rooted in truth, Detective. That's how they become clichés." Maura's voice was prim. She couldn't help it. But still she shook her head, fiercely, because she knew she was bungling this. "You trust me."

It was so utterly Maura to phrase that as a statement and not a question.

Jane sighed and nodded her head. "You can kiss every guy from here to Cambodia, Maura, and I wouldn't care. I trust you. I know you. But this is Ian, the guardian angel of all Africa."

"Cambodia is actually in southern Asia, not Africa, so perhaps you meant—"

"Maura!"

"Sorry." Wrapping her hands more fully around Jane's wrists, Maura took a step closer. "Jane." She lowered her voice. A plea. "You can't possibly believe this changes anything."

Jane gave in and finally met Maura's gaze. "Ian's back. That changes everything."

Only a kiss. A kiss. Hell, Maura kissed Frankie that night at the Robber when Frost weakened her with shots and dared her. No big deal. No. Big. Deal.

This inner monologue had Jane returning to her desk significantly less excited than she had left it. Maura Isles certainly knew how to ruin a perfectly good day.

In fact, the doctor had completely stolen Jane's rare opportunity to gloat. She was adding that to the list. The 'Times Maura Isles was wrong' list.

Number 1. The time she kissed Dr. Ian Faulkner in the BPD parking lot.

Need she continue?

"Uh, Jane?" Frost's voice was tentative, almost nervous. A clear sign he recognized the abrupt change in mood. "Everything cool? You know, with you and, ah, the doc?"

Jane's head swiveled towards her partner, every ounce of her uncertainty shifting into anger. Anger was a much more comfortable, more familiar, emotion but it demanded a target. Frost would do.

"Who said anything about Maura?"

Frost cleared his throat. "No one. Just…She's usually the only that makes you look like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…" Frost screwed up his face, clenched his jaw and generally looked constipated. "Like that."

Korsak walked in before Jane could respond, marching straight to Jane's desk and dropping two Snickers bars in her lap. She glanced at them once before turning her glare on him. Bull's-eye.

He had the good graces to flush. "I was gonna spring for the King Size, I swear, but the machine is still out. Fucking budget cuts. So. Hmm. You talked to the doc?"

"What the hell, Vince?"

"I tried to tell you! But you were running down the hall like the damn building was on fire. I tried to tell you."

Jane narrowed her eyes at the sergeant and stood, rising to surpass his height. "Oh really? You tried to tell me? Because, funny, I don't remember that. I don't remember hearing you say 'Hey, Jane, I ran into Maura this afternoon. She couldn't talk; too busy screwing some guy in safari pants. Know anything about that?'"

"What?"

Jane merely pointed a finger at Frost, ordering him to stay quiet.

"I don't remember you saying that, Vince."

"Screwing? Jesus, Jane! It wasn't like that. I mean, sure, the squad car she was up against probably—"

"Stop." Jane held up a hand to halt his ramble. The last thing she needed was for Vince to clarify the mental images already burning her brain. "Don't. Just…don't. Don't say anything else."

"Do you want me to tell you, or no? 'Cause you're sending out more mixed singles than my second ex wife, Rizzoli. And she was a crazy loon."

"I want to know what you saw. But not…all you saw. Understand?"

Korsak blew out a breath strong enough to shift the curls on Jane's shoulders. "No," he admitted.

"Damn, Korsak. Bare bones, man. She doesn't need details."

"They kissed, ok? You wanna know the truth, the doc looked pretty shocked by the whole thing. I won't say she didn't kiss him back."

Jane's eyes dropped quickly to the floor at that quiet confession.

"I'm not going to lie to you. But she's the one who pushed him away. Came to her damn senses and full out shoved him. I got the feeling she was a little caught up in the moment at first, you know?"

"Yeah." She tried, but Jane's voice was no louder than a whisper. "I know."

Korsak shifted his feet uncomfortably and looked to Frost for help. When the younger detective only shrugged, he sighed and nudged Jane on the shoulder.

"Listen, kid, take it from someone who's been there. This shit happens and it almost always means nothing. Her ex is back in town and maybe messes with her head for a while. Your head, too. It's still you she's going home with tonight, yeah? So she kissed him, no big deal." Korsak unwittingly repeated Jane's mantra. "It ain't like he's the love of her life or something."