A/N: One of my very first fanfics in a decade, and first Rizzles ever. Please excuse any weird sentences or words, english is not my first language, and I don't have anyone to beta. But I would love to hear what you think. I really enjoyed writing this one :)

"You've got mail."

Frost's voice is mechanical, and Jane laughs at him before she looks down at her screen. She hadn't heard the soft ping, but obviously Frost had. She clicks on the small envelope at the bottom of her screen.

"It's Maura, tox screen is back."

She opens the attachment and quickly finds what she is looking for.

"Nothing."

She sighs and closes the report before her eyes notices the additional writings in the e-mail.

No signs of drugs in his body. Want to hit back a couple of drinks at The Dirty Robber after work? I could use it.

Jane laughs and quickly replies.

Kick back a couple of drinks! And yes, sounds good.

She slowly shakes her head at the adorable try from the doctor before she tries to put her focus back on Korsak and Frost who are brainstorming.

"Jane, please cooperate with me. I'm too tired to argue with you. And most importantly, you are too drunk to even argue with me."

The body next to her is leaning towards her, and she struggles to keep them both on their feet. She tightens her grip around Jane's waist while Jane scoffs before she starts laughing.

"I am so not too drunk. Or whatever. I can walk, can't I?"

She lifts her arm from the doctor's shoulders just to prove her point. But Maura never lets go off her waist.

"Barely. Now come on, you need to lie down. How is your eye?"

"Fine. It still works."

Jane blinks, but winces from the pain.

"Or maybe not…"

Maura smiles as she guides them towards her bedroom.

"I will get you some ice after I get you down on the bed. You should have iced it a lot longer than you did."

Jane looks at her through narrow eyes.

"Dr. Isles, d'you get me drunk just to get me into bed?" she grins.

"Don't be silly, Jane. You got yourself drunk. Now lie down."

She takes a deep breath as Jane dumps down on her bed.

"I'm being silly? It seems like it is you tha-"

Jane silences as she swallows and stares at the floor a few seconds.

"It's appearing that y- Oh screw it. I can't talk, obliviously…"

Jane falls down on her back, and doesn't see the smile that's covering Maura's face.

"No arguments here" she whispers, mostly to herself.

She turns around and heads back to the kitchen to find some ice to cool down the detective's eye. As she walks back she finds herself thinking about all the other times she's taken care of bruises and bumps after an arrest or confrontation with suspects. Friday night and Jane in her bed, passed out and with a black eye where you could almost see the impressions of knuckles… Nothing new.

Her coffee is cold, and probably has been for a while. She makes a face as the cold liquid forces its way down her throat. Obviously, she's bored, because her eyes can't seem to focus on the writings on the slides up on the stage. The constant talking goes in one ear, and quickly out the other. With a quick glance around, it's clear that she's not the only one who thinks this has gone on for too long. She slides down further and is grateful for the comfortable chairs in the auditorium. The small envelope at the bottom of her computer screen catches her attention. Nothing could be more boring than this, and she opens her mail. Just the name makes her smile.

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

12:26pm

By the time you read this I sure hope you are back in your hotel room and done with the seminar for today. But if I know you (and I think I do), you are probably reading this in between lectures or even during. I would certainly place a small amount of money on the latter. In that case:

STOP READING!

Yes, I know that won't work with you, so I won't bother saying it again. Just wanted to check in, it is weird being at work without you. Two days without you looking over my shoulder as I do an autopsy, and trying to force me to guess before I even have a chance to gather evidence. Well, Frost isn't much better than you, so it somehow feels like you are here. Except he prefer to stay next to the door. And I can't blame him, based on the victim lying on my table at the moment. Although I am very pleased he did most of the vomiting at the crime scene earlier today, and not in my morgue.

Well, I just wanted to say hi. And tell you to pay attention. You are there to learn, remember? When will you be back for morning coffee and movie night?

Jane hides her smile before she looks up at the stage, wondering if she has the determination to focus. No, not a chance.

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

12:57pm

Oh, how you know me doctor! Yes, I am at a lecture on interrogation techniques at the moment, but he's been talking for two hours straight! Apparently he likes to hear himself talk. I do not. And I'm not the only one who's typing at the moment.

Yeah, I know, I should be listening, but I really don't see why. I know how to interrogate perps, I know when they hide something and I know how to make them talk. I always solve the case, don't I?

Tell me about the case lying on your table! I would gladly be there hovering over you trying to make you guess cause of death! But tell me something, are you writing personal e-mails during work, Dr. Isles? Cause that doesn't seem to fit the Dr. Isles I know! What if someone finds out about this? Oh no! *gasps and cover mouth with hand*

Won't be back until Friday night. Ugh, and it's only Wednesday today?

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

1:06pm

Oh don't pretend to be so shocked. I'm writing while eating lunch. I am allowed to write personal e-mails during lunch. If not, then arrest me.

Yes, you do solve your cases, but it could be interesting to learn something new, don't you think? You have to agree that your approach can sometimes be considered provocative. Maybe you could learn a new technique that wouldn't result in suspects launching at you. Remember, I have seen you walk out interrogations with bruises, blood and a sore hand.

There's really not much to tell about the victim now. He was found floating down at the harbor this morning. I am still waiting for results, but cause of death is drowning. I haven't found anything to rule this as a suspicious death. Frost and Korsak are informing his family as we speak, or write.

See, even far away you manage to hover over my shoulder. Now focus on the lecture, detective. That's why you are there in the first place.

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

1:39pm

I focused, and didn't learn a new and revolutionary method of interrogating people. I did however learn that the detective two rows ahead of me likes his women dressed up in French maid costumes. I made a mental note to stay clear of him for the rest of the seminar.

But seriously, I know how to deal with bad guys. And yes, sometimes I have to defend myself, but that's my job. You know that. I am however very happy that you always know how to deal with my injuries. It has saved me a lot of whining from Ma, and trips to the ER just to silence her. Come to think of it, it's not at all convenient to have my mother working at the same place as me. I already have to put up with my brother (and you…) at work. Hey, why not get Tommy a job at the station as well. We'll be like one happy family working together! *vomit*

Okay, I have to buy a new computer… cause this keyboard makes so much noise. I'm getting glares from the professor, and not the good kind. Gotta go ;)

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

2:44pm

Well, French maid costumes are not that rare as a male fantasy. Even though I don't seem to understand it. French maids wore that kind of black and white afternoon uniforms during the 19th century. Although they were much more conservative back then. I don't think you need to worry about the detective as long as you don't dress up as a French maid.

Yes, I know that's your job. And of course I know how to heal your wounds, I wouldn't be a good doctor if I didn't. I sometimes feel like my job description should have come with a warning: "You will have to aid rebel detectives". But in my opinion, you have not been to the ER as often as you should have. I'll leave it at that.

Hey! What do you mean you have to put up with me? I'm a little offended by that. And confused, as we usually hang out off the clock as well.

PS. The keyboard wouldn't make so much noise if you were listening instead of typing…

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

3:14pm

Oh god… another lection from google-mouth! Well, I guess I walked straight into that! And no, I have no plans on dressing up as a French maid! God no! (You know, sometimes I have a very hard time understanding if you are joking or not. Even more so now!)

Are you calling me a rebel, doc? And I thought you knew me… How wrong a girl can be! But come on, you don't have to clean my wounds that often. Come to think of it… how come I am the only one with wounds you need to heal? I never see anyone else down in your morgue with their foot in your face.

So, how is your lunch break coming along? Finished with that salad yet? Or did you have to grow the vegetables yourself, considering it's been two hours since you claimed to be writing while having lunch. I didn't know MEs were allowed that long lunch breaks. Hmm… I think I need to look into this when I get back to Boston.

Oh well. Time for the last lecture of the day. It almost makes me sad… (yes, that was sarcasm!)

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

4:53pm

Maybe you don't have plans right now on dressing up as a French maid. But who knows what the future brings…

Yes, I am in fact calling you a rebel, detective. Prove me wrong if you don't like it.

And yes, you are pretty much the only one who comes down to my morgue that needs my medical skills, who are still alive! Now, considering you were sent off to a seminar that revolves around interrogation techniques, handling suspects and the unstable mental mind of murderers, what does all this tell you?

My lunch break was just fine. So was the salad. But why you had to ask if I were growing my own vegetables is beyond me. You are aware that we are in the middle of February, right? But yes, I am writing personal e-mails during work right now. It's slightly disturbing, but I think I have given enough time of my personal life to deal with work stuff to make it even.

PS. You didn't answer my question.

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

6:45pm

What do you mean "who knows what the future brings"?! I know that my future doesn't include me dressing up in a French maid costume to please some twisted fantasy! What you do when you're alone… is really not my business! And no, I don't wanna know either!

I'm not rebel, you should know that. I'm bad-ass! *grins*

I can't help being torn right now. I kinda feel honored that you always help me out, whatever the injury is. But on the other hand I think you are trying to tell me that I am the only one who always ends up in situations that require medical attention. But, as you said, I'm still alive every time I end up in the morgue, and I think you like it that way. I certainly do. But why they sent me to this seminar? Because I'm the best, of course!

Oh, Maura… you still don't know when I make a joke, do you? I was joking about you growing your own vegetables for your lunch. Of course I know it's February! I will make sure to flash a sign every time I make a joke from now on…

But seriously, yes, you have spent way too much time at work. We both have. We really could take a month's vacation and still not feel guilty.

Okay, I have to head out for dinner. Meeting a couple of detectives from NY for dinner and drinks. I really hope you're not at work right now. It's almost 7, GO HOME!

PS. What question?

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

10:56pm

I simply acknowledged the fact that no one knows what the future will bring us. Maybe the man of your dreams has this particular fantasy, and wouldn't you want to please him?

I hope you never, ever end up on my table. Or someone else's table. I really don't think I would survive. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry. Shoot, I have to stop these thoughts.

Oh, that was a joke. I thought maybe it was, but I find it very difficult to know whether you joke or not. And when I can't hear your voice, it just makes it more difficult. But you don't have to exaggerate, Jane. I wouldn't want you running around with a sign in your hands all day.

A vacation would actually be a nice distraction right now. Where would we be going if I let you decide?

Hope you're having a nice time tonight. You will be glad to know I was already home by 7 tonight. And I'm finishing my glass of wine before I'm off to bed. How is your eye by the way?

PS. The question: what do you mean you have to put up with me?

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

1:23am

*scoffs* *laughs* *wrinkles nose*

Hell no. I am not pleasing someone by dressing up as a maid. Nuh-uh. No way. Well, maybe… no. Or?

(Can you tell I've been drinking… a lot… tonight?)

That would have to be one hell of a person! I don't think any man can make me do that. No. Nope.

I am never ending up on yor tabl. At least not that tble. /Dammit, cant hit keys)

*flshes sign with word JOKE on it* I was joking about the joke. I think. I need to lie down.

We would go to aruba, Jamaica, oh I wanna take ya, Bermuda, bahama, come on pretty mama. (I know you're singing right now!) No seriously, I wanna got o aruba, or Jamaica, or something like that. Beach, clear water, drinks. Oh, the drinks. That'd be nice. Right? (If you let me decide my ass. Youre not the boss of me!)

Sleep tight doc. I think my head will hurt tomorrow…. Or later… soon.

PS. *flashes sign, again.* Joke! I put up with you very easy. Ily. Easily! Big question is how you put up with ME!

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

7:02am

And how are we feeling today, detective? Suffering from any headache, dehydration, dizziness, nausea, problems concentrating? I assume you had a good time last night. It certainly sounded like you were having fun on my voicemail.

So, this is interesting. You say you don't think any man can make you dress up. Does that mean a woman can make you dress up like a French maid? I believe it would be quite entertaining to see you as a French maid.

What other tables do have in mind? If I didn't know any better I would think you were flirting with me :)

Aruba it is then. Or Jamaica. See, I let you decide. I'll let Cavanaugh know we'll be taking a month's vacation when you return. (Still uncertain about the flirting in the previous mail.)

PS. That is not a big question. And the answer is the same as yours.

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

8:23am

Oh my god… can we please just forget about that last mail? I clearly was drunk as a sailor on leave. I can't even remember writing it. And, what?! I called you last night? *checks phone* Oh, I did. I'm sorry, did I wake you? I'm so sorry. There should be a law against calling under influence. (I don't know if I want to know what I said. Or mumbled or whatever I was doing around that time.)

And what?! Again. No, I don't want to dress up as a maid, no matter who asks! And what do you mean it would be entertaining? If I wasn't embarrassed enough I would point out that I'm not really sure if I'm the only one flirting. But! I'm not flirting. Well, maybe I was last night, but everybody flirts when they're drunk. So… yeah.

(I'm letting the whole table-thing slip by without a word. Basically because I have no idea what I was thinking…)

Maura, please tell me you know I was kidding about the Aruba/Jamaica-thing? Well, partly kidding. Don't tell Cavanaugh we're leaving for a month! Jesus, he would be mad as hell. And curious…

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

9:56am

I can't control what to forget, so no, that last (well, second to last) e-mail is still vividly alive in my memory. But yes, you clearly were drunk as a sailor on leave. It sounded like that. Don't worry, you didn't say anything I didn't already know. And you told me to ignore you if you called again, which you did, and I ignored it. Hence the very amusing voicemail when I woke up. I never knew you were the type to drunk-dial.

You as a French maid would certainly be very entertaining. And I never said you were the only one flirting.

Relax, Jane. I haven't booked the tickets to Aruba. Yet.

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

10:05am

I didn't say anything you didn't already know? Well, that is comforting… I think. Since you already know everything there is to know.

Well, who would I drunk-dial when you are always there with me when I'm drunk?

You're freaking me out right now…

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

10:34am

Do I?

And good. I like freaking you out.

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

10:54am

Don't you?

And stop it!

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

11:43am

You tell me.

You have a new instant message from Jane:

Jane: Okay, this is getting weird.

Maura: Why?

Jane: Because I can't tell whether you're dead serious or just messing with me because I'm hung over.

Maura: There's nothing like dead serious.

Jane: Maura!

Maura: But I see your point. Why are you online? Don't you have a seminar to focus on?

Jane: Yes, I have! And why are you online? And why are you changing the subject?

Maura: I'm having lunch. And I'm changing the subject because I want to.

Jane: …

Maura: I didn't really understand that.

Jane: Really? And you call yourself a genius?!

Maura: No, I don't. But I do have the IQ that qualifies as a genius.

Jane: Okay, I'm gonna go. And not just because it's lunch and everyone is leaving around me.

Maura: I still want to know if I know everything I need to know. Eat something healthy for once.

Jane has left the chat.

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

1:45pm

Seriously, what's going on?

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

1:57pm

That's what I'm asking you. Do I know everything I need to know?

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

2:08pm

Why would you ask?

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

2:24pm

Because of what you said on the voicemail. I'm getting the feeling there's something you're not telling me.

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

2:40pm

What did I say? I'm sorry, but I don't even remember calling…

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

2:58pm

You sure you want to know?

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

3:02pm

I don't know. You decide. I don't want to know if I'll be embarrassed and ashamed and we'll end up avoiding each other for the next month. Or week, or even day.

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

3:05pm

Why would we end up avoiding each other?

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

3:10pm

You tell me…

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

3:19pm

Fine. I'll tell you. And you decide what to do with the information. It went something like this:

"Why is the sky blue? And how do birds find their way back after they... fly off to wherever they fly off to? You always know the answer to everything, no matter what. So why am I so freaking scared to ask you something I've been wanting to ask for a hell of a long time and dying to know the answer to and only you know the answer?"

I actually listened to it again, and this is exactly what you said. Do you see why I'm curious?

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

3:30pm

I see your point.

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

3:32pm

That's it? You're not going to tell me?

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

3:53pm

No… I'm not even sure if I know what I was talking about.

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

4:01pm

Don't lie, Jane. You're not very good at it.

Can I tell you what I think?

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

4:09pm

How do you do that? *groans* I hate it…

Okay, tell me.

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

4:09pm

No, wait! Don't!

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

4:10pm

I don't know… I'm confused.

To: Jane Rizzoli
From: Dr. Maura Isles

4:56pm

Well, maybe this will clear things out.

I think we've been avoiding each other long enough… I just didn't know for sure until last night.

Jane taps her fingers on her thigh. Everything moves too slowly around her, and she can't move her feet fast enough. She's not really a patient woman. Which the instant coffee in her cabinet proves. And right now she wishes the cafe had instant instead of the complicated and sophisticated lattes and cino-this and cino-that. She stares at the machines behind the counter and her thoughts race to the kitchen in Beacon Hill and that god awful machine she constantly fights on her mornings there. And just like that, her thoughts are back on Maura. Everything reminds her of Maura. It always has, well, at least the last year. She can't go anywhere or do anything without the hazel eyes following her. Just the thought of the honey blonde hair against her fingers makes her tremble as she finally is handed her coffee. She turns around and walks out into the crisp winter air. Soon, she's almost there.

To: Dr. Maura Isles
From: Jane Rizzoli

9:49pm

There's someone at your door.

Sent via phone near Beacon Hill, Boston