With their weapons drawn, Detectives Jane Rizzoli and Barry Frost stood at a third floor apartment door in what charitably could be called a seedy building.  The walls were stained with bodily and other types of fluids and there was a stench that challenged even Jane’s gag reflex.

Jane eyed her partner, who nodded before she knocked on the door.  “Mr. Tucker?  Boston PD, open up,” she said firmly.  Hearing a loud thud, Frost tried opening the door then stepped back and kicked it open. 

They rushed in and found their suspect awkwardly going out the window onto the fire escape.  “Freeze!”  Jane shouted uselessly as the suspect continued to flee. 

A quick glance revealed various photos of missing and murdered teens pinned up on his wall.  He was their man . . . and that man was attempting to get away.  “Get backup and cover the alley and streets,” Jane barked, prompting Frost to nod and bolt out of the door.

Jane growled with irritation as she carefully looked out of the window to see the suspect going up.  She frowned as she climbed out of the third story window to pursue the suspect.  As she got closer, she was thankful he was not very athletic and joined him on the roof.  “Freeze, Tucker!  You’re gonna get caught today; you might as well . . . ,” she shouted then stopped in disbelief as the man climbed out onto a wooden plank that connected his apartment building to the adjacent building.  

“Oh come ON!” she blurted incredulously, knowing if she didn’t follow, there was a chance he could get away and disappear on them.  She was not about to let the murderer of four girls out of her sight.  “FREEZE Damn it!” she called out again, only causing the suspect to turn a moment to see her and become more determined to flee.  She really wished he had a gun and tried to shoot her.  It would be over a lot quicker!

As she carefully started to cross the board, with her arms held out to steady herself and her gun still in her left hand, the suspect jumped down to the roof on the other side and ran to the far end.  God, she hated heights!  

Jane finally crossed the board and jumped onto the roof with a sigh of relief.  When she ran after the suspect, her eyes widened in disbelief as he climbed over the edge and disappeared from view.  Was he trying to commit suicide?  She wondered, perhaps hoped, as she ran to the edge.  Looking down, she blurted “Really?!?” with irritation when she saw him shimmying down the building’s downspout.  She quickly looked around for alternatives – anything - but found nothing.

“Fuck,” she hissed before taking a fortifying breath as she climbed over the edge, five stories above the alley below.  

Hugging the downspout as she shimmied down, the rust from the pipe smeared her white tee and caked her hands.  She would definitely need a shower after this arrest, she considered as she looked down at the suspect who only had a few more feet to go.  Her head snapped up in alarm when she heard something break.  She frantically looked around when she felt the pipe drift away from the building before she heard another unnerving sound, the metal groaning just before it gave way, sending Jane plummeting three stories to the alley below.

Chapter 1 - Questions

“Jane?” Angela Rizzoli called softly to her daughter, seeing her slowly wake and look around, disoriented.  “You’re in the hospital, Janie,” she explained. “Again,” she added flatly.  “But I suppose I should be thankful you didn’t shoot yourself this time,” she offered harshly, yet tenderly brushed hair off of her daughter’s brow.  “You got yourself a nasty bump on the head and a sprained ankle.  Good thing you have such a hard head, huh?” she joked.

Angela noted Jane’s perplexed face.  “What?  You gonna be sick?” she said with alarm, looking around the room and grabbing a trash can.

Jane shook her head gently. 

“Oh,” Angela said, putting the trash can down.  “Hungry?” She guessed, not thinking that was it.

Jane shook her head gently and looked down thoughtfully.  “What . . . happened?”

Angela looked at her with a frown.  “The doctor said you might not remember the accident.”


“Well, not really.   YOU decided to chase a bad guy over the rooftops and YOU decided to follow him down a downspout.  So that part wasn’t really an accident,” Angela said with a disapproving frown.

Jane blinked.

“Unfortunately, the downspout broke and you fell.  Honestly, Jane, why couldn’t you have just let Barry chase him?”

Before Jane could respond, Angela continued.

“Do you always have to be the hero?  Do you always have to put yourself in danger like that?  I mean Maura said you were fortunate not to have broken your neck given the height of the fall!!”


“I almost didn’t call her,” Angela continued.  “I knew she would want to drop everything to fly back to see how you were for herself.  But she still has to give her lecture tomorrow and you know how hard she worked on it,” she said, recalling how engrossed Maura was for the past month.  Between her unfortunately busy job with those poor girls and the important lecture, there wasn’t a lot of time to spare for family dinners, Angela considered with a frown.  “I’m glad I could convince her to stay for at least her lecture.  It wasn’t easy, believe you me.  But she deserves a break from the Rizzoli madness, don’t you think?” Angela looked at her expectantly.

Jane nodded weakly as her gaze drifted to the door where a dark-haired, uniformed police officer stood.  Male, late twenties, maybe early thirties . . . .

“Hey, Jane.  How ya feeling?”  Frankie said softly.

“Bout time you got here!” Angela scolded him as he entered the room.

“Well, Ma, while some of us were getting their beauty sleep . . . ,” Frankie said with a smirk, looking at Jane.  “. . . the rest of us had to collect the evidence and book the bad guy.  We got him good, Jane,” Frankie said with a grin.

“G . . . good,” she said with a weak smile.

“You don’t look so good, Jane,” Frankie said, getting a slap on the arm from his mother.

“Ma!” he winced, rubbing his arm.

“Your sister is in the hospital!  What do you expect?” Angela said as the Doctor came in. 

She was in her late forties and looked . . . elegant, Jane thought, her eyes drifting over her petite form.  She was about five foot two, and greying slightly around the temples, enhancing her red mane, and looked fit, even under her white coat.  No rings or jewelry except for a small gold chain around her slender neck….

“Angela, Frankie . . . you’re not upsetting our patient, are you?” Doctor Redding gently scolded as she pulled out her penlight.  Doctor Redding knew the Rizzolis, having tended to them for several years; she knew they could quickly get Jane’s blood pressure up.

“Of course not, Janet.  Right Jane?” Angela smiled and looked at her daughter, who glanced around the room as if looking for something.  Angela frowned.

“Jane, if you don’t mind looking at me for a moment?” Dr. Redding said gently, coaxing brown eyes to her. 

“Don’t mind at all, Doctor,” Jane said with a small smile, making the doctor pause a moment before flashing the light in Jane’s eyes, making her cringe a bit.  “Sorry,” Dr. Redding said softly.  “But your pupils are responding normally, which is good.”

“Now, follow my pen.  All right?” the doctor said holding up the pen and moving it, observing Jane’s eyes.  “Good.  Do you notice any problems with your vision?”

“No,” Jane said and grew quiet.

“Good.  And how are you feeling?” Dr. Redding asked with a smile as she returned the pen to her pocket.

“Confused,” Jane whispered uneasily.  Clearing her throat, she spoke with forced confidence. “Could we talk . . . in private?” 

“Jane?” Angela said with concern.   “What ever it is, you can tell your family.”

Jane’s gaze dropped as she winced.

“Ma, let Jane talk with her doctor.  We’ll pry it out of her later, OK?” Frankie said good-naturedly.  Jane looked at him with appreciation.

“Fine,” Angela groused.  “We’ll discuss this later,” she warned, led out of the room by her son.

“What’s on your mind, Jane?”  The doctor asked with a warm smile.

“I . . . don’t remember,” Jane said, causing the doctor to look at her curiously.

“You don’t remember . . . what?”  She asked gently.

“Them,” Jane said weakly, motioning to the door.  Looking at the doctor with worry, she added “Me.  What happened . . . before waking up here,” she added with a wince.

The doctor nodded slowly, trying not to show her concern with this unexpected complication.  “Memory loss is not uncommon with concussions, especially memories of the accident.  However, yours appears to be more severe than is typical.  I will have a neurologist examine you to determine the scope of this loss and discuss with you what to expect.”

“Thank you,” Jane whispered, feeling lost.

“Jane, I’ll be with you every step of the way,” Dr. Redding said, squeezing her hand.


Dr. Redding found the Detective’s family in the cafeteria and joined them at a table to discuss the situation.

“So, what are you saying, Doctor?  Janie doesn’t remember her own family??” Angela blurted in disbelief. 

“Jane suffered severe memory loss.  She doesn’t even know who she is,” Dr. Redding offered with a small wince. 

“Right,” Angela scoffed. 

“Ma, Jane wouldn’t lie about something like this.  Didn’t she seem a bit . . . off to you?”

“No more than usual,” Angela said defensively, realizing she had not really given Jane a chance to say much.

“So . . . is it, like, permanent?” Frankie asked with a wince.

“Oh GOD,” Angela blurted with worry as the situation finally sank in.

“It’s too soon to tell.  There is a good chance this is just temporary and Jane will get most if not all of her memories back,” Dr. Redding said, trying to be optimistic.  “But I’m not a neurologist.  I have a specialist coming in to see her tomorrow and we should get a better understanding of what has happened and what to expect.”

“Thank you, Janet,” Angela said absently to her long-time friend.

“We will do everything we can to help Jane through this, Angela,” Dr. Redding offered. 

“Thanks, Doc,” Frankie said, getting a small smile from the woman before she left them in the cafeteria.


“Detective, time for your vitals,” a buxom nurse came into Jane’s room in the morning.

Jane smiled as she came to the side of the bed.  “Well, my pulse just shot up, nurse…” she reported, looking over the woman with appreciation and stopped and focused on her name tag. “Sandy.”

“Behave, Detective.  I’m taken,” she said, though smiling with amusement as she put the blood pressure cuff on Jane.

“Just my luck, I get a beautiful woman to finally come to my bed and I find she’s unavailable,” Jane bemoaned dramatically, causing the nurse to chuckle.

“I doubt you have any difficulties in that department, Detective,” she said.  “But I could get you another nurse who’s unattached?” she teased.

“But if you got me another, unattached nurse, isn’t there still a rule about not going out with a patient or something?” Jane asked with a smirk.

“Well, rules were made to be broken,” Sandy said slyly.

“No. No,” Jane said magnanimously.  “I’ll just deal with my unrequited love and stay with you,” Jane said dramatically, making Sandy chuckle.

“Now shush while I get your vitals.”

“I like bossy women,” Jane said with a grin.



There was knocking at the door to her room, though the door was wide open.  Jane glanced up from her magazine and saw a young black man in his late twenties dressed in a tailored suit.  There was a gold shimmer off his belt – a badge.

“Hey, Jane?  Uh, do you mind a visitor?” he asked hesitantly.

“Come on in . . . detective,” she said with a smile, putting down her magazine.

“Did . . . did you remember that?” He asked with hope.

“No.  The badge and suit kind of gave it away,” Jane said with a shrug.

“So you really don’t remember me?” he said with disappointment in his eyes.

She hated seeing that and sighed, shaking her head no.

“Well, uh, I’m Barry Frost, your partner,” he said, awkwardly holding out his hand, which she shook with a small smile.

“So I fell, huh?” she asked.

Barry took in a long breath and winced.  “Yeah.  You were chasing after the perp and he took to the roof.  I didn’t think he would go up, you know?” Frost said with an apologetic wince. 

“That’s probably why he went up,” she said with a smirk and shrug. 

He relaxed a bit and added “He tried to climb down the drain spout and you followed him and . . . it broke,” he said with a cringe.

“But you did get him; so that’s one for the good guys, right?”  Jane asked, wanting to encourage the younger detective.

“Yeah,” he said, feeling a bit better.  “His apartment was where he planned everything – he had pictures and maps all over – just like you thought he would.”  Seeing confusion on her face, he added “he killed four girls and was targeting more.”

She winced.  “Man, I’m really glad you got him,” Jane said softly, causing the man to nod in agreement.

“Jane, I’d like you to meet . . . ,” Dr. Redding came in with the neurologist, stopping with embarrassment.  “Oh.  Sorry, to interrupt.”

Jane smiled.  “It’s all right, Barry was just filling me in on what happened when I fell.”

“I’m gonna go back to the station.  Call me if you need anything, ok?” he said, then remembered she didn’t know his number.  He grinned sheepishly as he pulled out his card from his breast pocket and handed it to her.

“Sure.  Thanks,” she said as he started to leave.  “Nice card!” Jane blurted with a smile looking over the snazzy card with a smirk, prompting his grin before he left.

“This is Doctor Samantha Engels, one of the best neurologists on the East Coast,” Dr. Redding said, smiling at the shorthaired blonde.

“One of the best?” she joked.

“Humble too,” Dr. Redding offered, looking at Dr. Engels warmly and touching her arm.  Jane’s brow rose with interest.  Likely seeing each other, she concluded from the familiarity and touch.  All the good ones were taken, she considered with mild disappointment.

“So Doc, you don’t happen to have a pill or something I could take to get my memory back, do you?” Jane said.  “Cause this really sucks,” she joked but there was truth behind the words.  Dr. Redding winced sympathetically.

“No pill, sorry.“


“Wait and see??” Angela scoffed as she drove Jane and Frankie.  After the neurologist examined her and found no complications beyond memory loss, Jane had been released from the hospital.  “What kind of advice is that?!?” she grumbled.  “And she was supposed to be the expert?”

“Ma!” Frankie said with great frustration, looking at her pointedly from the passenger’s side. 


“It is what it is.  Complaining about it isn’t going to make it any better,” Frankie said sagely as she drove up to Maura’s home.

“Whoa, is this where I live?”  Jane finally spoke, inspecting the impressive house.

“Nah.  This is Maura’s house.  Ma’s staying at the guest house out back,” Frankie supplied.

Jane was about to ask but noticed the look of alarm on Frankie’s face and slight shake of his head no.  Jane frowned and asked instead “Where do I live?”

“You just got out of the hospital!” Angela blurted with alarm.

“With no complications - so I can go home,” Jane offered reasonably.

“Who’s going to take care of you if you’re all alone at your apartment?!?” Angela said incredulously.

“Besides no complications . . . ,” Jane repeated firmly.  “. . . the doctor said if I am exposed to familiar surroundings, that might help jog my memory,” Jane countered calmly, hoping logic would derail the determined woman’s idea.  Frankie was rather impressed Jane was still calm with their mother.

“You practically live here, Jane.  It’s about as familiar a place as your gonna get,” Angela argued, getting out of the car.

“Is she my sister??” Jane asked as Angela opened Jane’s door, trying to piece together why she would practically live somewhere other than her own home and why her mother would live so close to this woman Maura.

“Maura?” Angela barked out a laugh. “She’s your best friend, Jane.  And she’s always been there when you needed help.  You couldn’t ask for a nicer friend.”

“I can’t just impose like that.  Best friend or not,” Jane said firmly, not budging from the back seat.  “Frankie could you please call me a cab . . . I . . . I’m uncomfortable here.  I want to go to my apartment and stay there - alone.  Please?” She looked at him.

“Jane, Maura would want you to stay here.  Come on,” Angela whined with frustration.

“Let me talk with her, OK?” Frankie said quietly to Jane and got out of the car. 

Jane tuned out the argument and looked at the house, wondering how a “best friend” would end up giving her mother a place to stay, and why her mother needed a place to stay.   The why’s kept piling up to the point of overwhelming her; she believed she needed to just be alone to collect her thoughts . . . as Angela poked her head in the door.  “I’ll be right back,” she said flatly.

Jane looked at Frankie curiously as he got back in the car.  “She’s not happy but she’s gonna drive you back to your place.”

“Thank you, Frankie.  I really appreciate your support,” Jane said sincerely then asked with a wince “is she always like that?”

Frankie snorted.  Loudly. 

“Attractive,” she said with a laugh, causing him to chuckle. 

“It’s even better with milk,” he offered with a smirk.



“I don’t like this,” Angela protested once again.

“We know, Ma,” Frankie said wearily as they headed to Jane’s door.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said, eyeing Jane pointedly.  “My number is speed dial #2,” she said, pointing to her phone in the kitchen.

“Who’s #1?” Jane had to ask.

“Maura,” Angela and Frankie said in unison, then chuckled in unison.  As Jane pondered that, they both said “Jinx.”

After an awkward hug from Angela and Frankie, Jane was left alone in her apartment.  Taking a look around to survey the area, she noticed a note on the kitchen counter.  Using her crutch, she went over to see what it said.

Jane, I’m looking after Jo Friday.  Let me know when you feel up to getting her back.  There’s no rush, I enjoy her company – take care of yourself, Rizzoli – Vince.

Jane frowned, wondering who Jo Friday was and not quite sure she liked the idea of people having access to her apartment, friends or not.  She glanced at the front door, which had several dead bolts, guessing she had always felt the need to ensure she was safe.  A knocking jolted her out of her thoughts.  She made her way over to the door and took a look through the peephole to see an attractive brunette, in her late-twenties.

She opened the door.  “Hi,” she said with a smile at the pretty woman.

“Jane, I heard about you on the news.  Are you all right?”  The young woman asked with genuine concern.

“Well, that’s to be determined,” Jane said, her eyes dropping with frustration at another person that knew her, but she didn’t know.  “Do you want to come in?” she said politely, getting a smile.

“You broke your foot?” The woman asked as she entered, looking down at Jane’s foot in a brace.

“Sprained ankle,” Jane corrected and motioned to the couch.  “Would you like something to drink?”

“No thanks,” she said, sitting down.  “Did you really chase a murderer across the rooftops?  The news said that Detective Rizzoli, who was honored for her heroic deeds earlier this year, had fallen several stories while in pursuit of a child killer,” Marissa said, mimicking the tone of the newscaster.

Jane shrugged.  “That’s what they tell me.  Uh . . . what heroic deeds?” Jane asked.

Marissa looked at her curiously.  “When you shot yourself?”

Jane absently placed her hand over her stomach where the scar was.  “Why was that heroic?”

“Jane?” Marissa looked at her worriedly.

“I’m having a bit of a memory problem,” Jane admitted uneasily.  “Got a nasty concussion when I fell.”

“Oh,” Marissa said with concern.  “So you don’t remember being held hostage by a bad cop . . . or taking his gun and shooting him through yourself?”

Jane shook her head no with a wince.  “That sounds . . . crazy.”

“It was heroic, Jane.  You didn’t know if your brother would make it and did what you could to resolve the situation quickly,” Marissa countered firmly, getting Jane to frown.  “Do you . . . remember me?” she asked, biting her lip.

“I . . . no,” Jane said with a cringe, hating to see disappointment in the younger woman’s eyes.

“I bet that’s . . . kinda of scary,” she said sympathetically, getting a nod.  “I’m your neighbor, Marissa.  Law school student and caffeine addict,” she said, holding out her hand.

Jane chuckled and shook her hand.  “Pleased to meet you.”

“If you need anything, Jane . . . I’m in Apartment 2B,” Marissa said, placing a hand on Jane’s thigh.

“Thanks.  It’s good to know I have a few . . . friends,” Jane said, glancing down at Marissa’s hand curiously.  “Just . . . how friendly are we?” Jane asked curiously. 

“Uh . . . not that friendly,” Marissa said with embarrassment, retracting her hand awkwardly.  “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.  That question was inappropriate,” Jane said with a wince.

“No.  No it wasn’t.  I wouldn’t mind if we were . . . friendly . . . that way,” Marissa offered with a shy smile.  “But I never thought I’d have a shot with you.”

“Why?  You’re certainly attractive and intelligent . . . and a caffeine addict,” she said with a smile, prompting a chuckle.  “You definitely seem my type,” Jane said with a grin, unable to help herself. 

“I’m not Dr. Isles,” Marissa said with a sad smile, then saw the confusion on Jane’s face.  “Oh, Jane.  You don’t remember her either?”

Jane frowned, shaking her head.

“I’m sure your memory will come back.  Familiar surroundings and people should help,” she offered with a small smile. 

“Thanks,” Jane said. 

Chapter 2 – Pictures

After sleeping like a log, she was woken by her overbearing mother, who was determined to make her breakfast and try and test her memory.  It was frustrating to have the woman ask her so many questions she had no answers to.  It was almost as if she couldn’t believe there were gaps in her memory.  It was also frustrating to have to continue to reject the same offer of living at her friend’s house under the care of her mother.  Didn’t that woman ever listen??

Finally finished with breakfast and left blessedly alone since her mother had to work, she felt like she needed another nap.  But she decided against it, wanting to enjoy the quiet.   Sipping her coffee and hobbling slowly around her apartment on a crutch, she explored.  She had various knick-knacks she had no idea where she got or what they really meant to her. 

There were a few pictures on a bookcase.  One picture was of her with Angela and Frankie and two other men, who she guessed were her father and brother from their ages.  There was another picture of her in a uniform with another woman - a stunningly beautiful woman.  She smiled.  Did she have great taste, or what?  There was another picture of her and the same attractive woman, who was in a matching running outfit.  She looked at it curiously, putting her coffee cup down and picking up the picture, staring at it closely.  Why on Earth did they have P.U.K.E on their tops??  She smirked, wondering if that’s what she did after running.  Her eyes drifted back to the smiling blond.  She must be really whipped if the woman got her to run and in THAT outfit.

Was this Maura?  Or Dr. Isles, Jane wondered, tracing her finger absently over the picture, for some reason hoping she had caused that smile.  Was Maura the Dr. Isles that Marissa had mentioned?  If Maura was taking care of her family and Marissa thought she had no shot at an intimate relationship because of a Dr. Isles, it was likely the woman was one and the same, Jane concluded, her mind trying to piece together the clues to her life. 

Another knock at her door startled her out of her appreciation of the mystery woman.  She set the picture down on the kitchen counter and hobbled over to her door wondering if she always got a lot of visitors.  She looked through the peephole and saw a kind-looking, grey-haired man with a goatee, holding a small dog in his arms.

She unlocked three deadbolts before opening the door.  “Hi?”  Jane said, causing Vince Korsak to smile uneasily. 

“Hi, Jane.  I’m Detective Vince Korsak – Barry and your mother told me about your memory problem.  I thought maybe bringing back Jo Friday might help,” he said, then turned to the dog.  “You want to help, Janie, don’t you girl? Don’t you??”

The dog barked.  “Jo Friday?” Jane said with amusement.  “Jo is a dog,” she said with mild amusement, looking at the scruffy pet.

“She misses you,” he said, lowering the dog to the floor.  Jo immediately circled her feet with a wagging tail and barked a couple of times.

“Want to come in?”  Jane asked.  “Can I get you a cup of coffee or something?  Not sure what else I have. . . ,” she said, looking back at her kitchen.

“I can’t stay.  Got to get to work.  Somebody’s got to keep an eye on Frost,” he joked.

“Yeah.  Barry,” she said absently, remembering his visit clearly but nothing before waking up in the hospital.  “Uh, before you go, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” he said, watching her go to the kitchen counter and pick up a picture.  She hobbled to him on her crutch, holding out the picture. 

He took it and smiled.  “The marathon picture.”

“Marathon?” Jane said with surprise, getting a chuckle from Vince. 

“Yeah.  You surprised us that you’d actually do that.”

Jane nodded in agreement, not thinking running a marathon exactly a fun four hours. “Who is that?” Jane asked, pointing to the beautiful woman.

“Dr. Maura Isles.  Our Chief Medical Examiner and your best friend,” he said.  “One brilliant lady,” he added sincerely.

“Maura Isles,” Jane said softly. 

“Remember anything about her?” Vince asked gently.

Jane looked up at him with a sad wince.  “You’d think I might remember someone that beautiful . . . who could actually get me to put myself through torture,” Jane added with a soft laugh, looking back down at the smiling face in the photo.

Vince smiled warmly.  “I’m sure you’ll start remembering stuff soon,” Vince said with a shrug.  “Well, I’ve got to get going.  Are you ok with Jo staying here with you?”

“Sure,” Jane said, then suddenly looked down at the dog at her feet warily. “She doesn’t bite, does she?” 

Vince chuckled.  “She might lick you to death,” he offered.  “Oh and don’t feed her chicken – allergic.”

“Uh . . . ok.”

“If you need anything, let me know, ok kiddo?”  Vince said.  “Phone number is on the back of the note by the phone.”

“Ok.  Thanks Vince,” Jane said.

After Vince left, Jane sat down on the couch feeling tired.  Jo jumped up and rested her head on Jane’s thigh.  “So . . . you’re Jo, huh?” She said with a smirk, scratching the dog’s head.


The phone rang, startling Jane awake.  She stretched her sore neck, frowning at having fallen asleep on the couch.  “Guess I must have needed it, huh, girl?” Jane asked the dog, who looked up at her and barked.

“Hello?” Jane finally answered.

“Jane!  Finally.  I tried to call you several times on your cell phone,” the unfamiliar female voice said. 

“I’m . . . not sure where my cell phone is,” Jane said honestly, glancing around her apartment with a wince.

“That would explain you not answering.  How are you feeling?” Jane heard the warmth in the woman’s voice.

“Sprained an ankle and hit my head,” Jane said. 

 “That’s what your mother said.  Are you suffering from any post concussive syndrome effects?  Vertigo, nausea, occipital neuralgia?” She asked.

“Occipital algebra?” Jane said with a wince, causing a small chuckle on the other end of the phone.

“Bad headaches, Jane,” she explained with amusement.  Jane smiled at the sound of her voice, enjoying the timbre.

“No.  No headaches, well, except when arguing with my mother about where I should sleep,” Jane said. 

“Jane, be nice.  She only wants what’s best for you.”

“Yeah.  She can be a bit overbearing though,” Jane said, causing a small chuckle.  “I’m glad Frankie is around.  He was able to get her to let me stay in my apartment.  He’s a really good guy,” Jane said.

“Yes.  Yes he is,” Maura said curiously at Jane’s comment that seemed off.  “As is Tommy.”

“Tommy?” Jane repeated the new name.

“Jane, I know you are still upset by his past actions, but he is trying to make amends.  Deep down, he’s a good-hearted person.  Like all the Rizzolis,” Maura said warmly.

“Uh . . . So you think I’ve been too hard on him?” Jane asked uneasily.

“I . . . Jane,” she exhaled with a heavy sigh.  “I just think he’s really trying to do the right things to make up for his past.  I don’t think you realize how hard he is trying.”

“I’ll uh, try to do better,” Jane said softly.  “. . . when I see him,” she added absently.

“He hasn’t visited you yet?”

“I . . . don’t think so.  I only met Frankie and Angela at the hospital.”

“I’m sure he’ll be around to see you soon,” Maura said, surprised and a bit disappointed Tommy had not seen his injured sister.

“So . . . where are you . . . Maura?”  Jane asked with a wince, hoping she guessed correctly.

“At the airport in Madrid.  I’m going to board in about ten minutes.”

“You had a paper . . . how’d that go?” Jane asked, remembering what Angela had said.

“It was well received.  Though I could have just submitted it.  I really should have come back when Angela first called me.  I’d be there now,” she said guiltily.

“Hey.  No.  Uh, you shouldn’t feel bad.  You . . . you should be able to lead your life without worrying about the Rizzoli family drama for a few days, right?” she said.

 “I . . . won’t stop worrying about you, Jane.”

“You must worry a lot from what my mother tells me,” Jane joked uncomfortably, feeling a bit bad she caused any distress for anyone.

“You have had more than your share of injuries on the job,” Maura allowed. 

“I’m . . . sorry,” Jane said softly, glancing at her right hand and its scar, wondering how she got the matching set on her hands.

“Jane, I wasn’t looking for an apology.  I know you do what you think is right to help others.  I just wish,” she said and sighed  “. . . you did not risk getting injured in the process.”

“Uh . . . Ok.  I . . . ,” Jane said and faded, feeling out of sorts.  Her hands started to ache and she looked down, clenching a sore hand.

“Jane?  What’s wrong?”

Jane barked a humorless laugh.  What wasn’t wrong?  “I’ll tell you when you get back . . . home,” she said awkwardly.  “I’m looking forward to meeting you,” she said, glancing over to her pictures.

Maura frowned at the odd comment.  “Meeting . . . ?  Jane?”

“H . . . have a safe flight, OK?” Jane quickly said.  “And bring me a bag of peanuts, ok?” she joked uncomfortably.

“All right,” Maura said hesitantly and heard Jane say “bye” before hearing the dial tone. 


Angela quickly picked up her phone.  “Hello?  Tommy?”

“No, it’s Maura.  I just got off the phone with Jane and she seemed . . . off.  What’s wrong?”  Maura asked. 

“She has amnesia,” Angela said with a heavy sigh.  “Yet she’s determined to . . . ,” she complained but was cut off.

“Amnesia?  Of the accident?” Maura asked, knowing it was a common occurrence to not know the details of the accident.

“Of everything!  She doesn’t know me or Frankie or Frost or Korsak,” Angela blurted.  “She even asked if you were her sister!”

Not hearing a response, Angela frowned.  “Maura, you still there?”

“Y . . . yes.  Did a neurologist see her?”

“Yes!  And you know what she said?  Wait and see.  Can you believe it?  After all those years in medical school you’d think she could give a prognosis better than that!”

“Head injuries can be difficult to analyze . . . ,” Maura said, but trailed off.

“Are you coming home?” Angela asked softly after a long moment.

“Yes.  I’m over the Atlantic now.  I’ll be in Boston in about six hours.”

“Maura!  You’re not supposed to be using your cell on the plane,” Angela hissed with worry.

“I’m using the airplane phone,” Maura said with a small smile at her concern.

“That’s gotta be costing you an arm and a leg,” Angela guessed.

“I’ll manage.  How . . . is Jane otherwise?”

“Stubborn!  She had to go back to her apartment.  She should be looked after but noooo – she’ll have none of that.  Not our Janie.  That girl is too proud for her own good.”


Another knock on her door, made Jane frown at the interruption of the Iron Chef program.  Jo Friday snorted and stayed on the couch as Jane got up and made her way to the door.  Looking through the peephole, she saw a dark haired young man, mid-twenties, unshaven.   He was in one of her pictures.

She opened the door and the man looked at her.  His eyes were bloodshot.  She frowned at the smell of beer and smoke.

“Look, Jane, I had a few with some buddies and lost track of time.  Ya gotta help me,” he said, clearly worried.

“Come in,” she said, getting a look of relief from the man.  As he past her, she guessed “Tommy.”

He turned to look at her.  “Yeah?”

“What help do you want?” Jane said.

“Tell Ma I was with you?” He asked with a hopeful wince.

“For how long?”

“Two days.”

“Not a good plan, Tommy.”

“Why not??” he said with a pout.

“I got home from the hospital yesterday and she’d know you weren’t with me.”

Tommy looked down at her foot and noticed the crutch.

“Are you all right?” He asked with genuine concern, which surprised her.

“I’ll call her and let her know you’re not dead,” Jane said, imagining their mother was very worried.

“Aw man, she’s gonna kill me,” he said, flopping down onto the couch and dropping his head into his hands in defeat.

“Well, it will be an easy crime to solve,” Jane offered, getting a groan.

She picked up the phone and pressed memory #2.  “Hello?”

“It’s me,” Jane said, looking at Tommy, who was petting Jo Friday and grabbing the remote to turn up the volume.

“Jane!  Are you OK?  Do you need something, honey?  I can be over in . . . ,” Angela blurted.

“Uh, Tommy’s here,” Jane interrupted.

“What?  He’s there??  Where has he been?!?” Angela blurted with anger, causing Jane to wince and pull the phone from her ear a moment.

“Out with some . . . buddies,” Jane said quietly.

“He’s been drinking again,” Angela said flatly.

“Smells like it,” Jane said with a wince.

“He promised he’d try harder this time,” Angela said sadly.

“There is still hope if he doesn’t give up,” Jane said softly.

“I’ll be by to pick him up.”

“You don’t have to deal with this tonight - he can crash on my couch,” Jane said.

“Jane, I’ll be by to pick him up.  Love you, honey,” Angela said and hung up.

Jane looked over to her brother and sighed.


Angela entered Jane’s apartment and kissed her daughter’s cheek.  “You guys are gonna give me grey hair,” she complained, shaking her head.

“There’s always dye,” Jane offered, getting a glare.

“Where is he?” Angela said with a heavy sigh, glancing around the room for signs of her wayward son.

“Took Jo Friday for a walk.”

“Well, at least he’s doing something productive.  How are you?  Do you remember anything?” Angela asked hopefully, sitting on the couch.

“No,” Jane said quietly, tired of the questions, tired of not knowing herself, tired of pretending it didn’t really, really suck.  She wondered if she was always this guarded around her family.

“Not even your favorite dessert?” Angela said with a small smile.

“I would only be guessing,” Jane said apologetically.

“You don’t need to guess,” Angela said and pulled out a Tupperware container from her bag and handed it to Jane. 

“What’s this,” Jane asked with amusement.

“Cannoli!” Angela said proudly.  “Why don’t we have some coffee and cannoli,” she said, getting up to go to the kitchen.

“Ok,” Jane said with a shrug, feeling a bit peckish. 

“Maybe it will trigger a memory or something,” Angela offered hopefully as she pulled out the coffee filters.

“Maybe,” Jane said with a sigh and sat at the kitchen counter.

After pouring the coffee, Tommy came back with Jo.

“Impeccable timing as always,” Angela announced with a smirk, briefly glancing at her son.  “Pull up a chair and I’ll pour you a cup and make you a plate too.”

Tommy looked at Jane, who shrugged.  He joined them at the kitchen counter and glanced at his mother uncomfortably.

“You coulda called me, Tommy,” Angela said, hurt evident in her voice as she served him coffee and cannoli.

He cringed.  “I . . . I’m sorry, Ma.  I just was worried you’d throw me out or something.”

“Throw….?  You think I would throw you out for falling off the wagon?”

“Well . . . .  I didn’t want to see your disappointment in me.”

“I’ll be disappointed if you stop trying, Tommy.  Please tell me you won’t skip AA any more,” Angela said.

“I’ll go again,” he said with a frown. 

“That’s all I’m asking for,” Angela said, patting his hand.

A knock on the door prompted Jane to grab her crutch and get up. 

“I’ll get it, sis,” Tommy said, hopping up out of his seat and getting to the door before she could take two steps.

Tommy looked through the peephole and grinned.  “You’re back!”  He said after opening the door. 

“Tommy,” Maura said with surprise.  “I am,” she added with a smile. 

Jane looked at the door expectantly, hearing the woman’s voice.

“I’ve missed our chess games,” he said with a smile, leaning against the door, checking her out. 

She smiled uncomfortably.  “Is Jane here?”

“Tommy don’t be a doofus, invite her in!” Angela said as she placed the dishes in the dishwasher.

“Right, right,” Tommy blurted and stepped back, grandly motioning for Maura to enter.  “Sorry,” he quietly said, leaning into her personal space as she walked in.

Maura smiled weakly at him, finding his charm beginning to wear thin.  Her eyes immediately sought out and fell on Jane, who openly looked her over from head to toe, not unlike her brother just had – except it made her feel appreciated not like a piece of meat.  A slight flush washed over her, never having been subjected to Jane’s overt and unabashed inspection before.  But Jane never had amnesia before either, Maura reminded herself, knowing she must be struggling to gather all the information she could to piece together her memories.

The woman was even more beautiful in person, Jane thought, feeling her pulse race.  Simply breathtaking…

“Jane,” Maura said, walking to her. “I’m Maura I . . . ,”

“Isles,” Jane answered with a pleased smile.

“Did you . . . ?” she asked hopefully.

Jane shook her head with an apologetic wince.  “You’re in my pictures; I asked about you,” she explained with a smile that turned into a frown as she asked “Why were we wearing running outfits with PUKE on them??”

Maura let out a small laugh at the familiar reaction.  Tommy piped up before she could answer.  “Hey, what’s going on?” Tommy looked between the two women in confusion at their odd conversation.

“Time to go, Tommy,” Angela blurted, grabbing her bag.  “I’ll tell you in the car,” she said to him.  “Good night, Jane,” she said warmly, squeezing her shoulder and kissing her cheek.

Maura noted how awkward Jane looked at receiving Angela’s affection, which was logical if you were unfamiliar with a person.

Tommy glanced at Jane realizing something was off.

“Maura, it’s good to see you home safe and sound,” Angela said, placing a hand on her forearm and giving her a kiss to her cheek as well.

Jane curiously noted Maura’s slight discomfort with the affection.

“Come on, Tommy,” Angela said, heading out the door.  Tommy rolled his eyes and followed, but stopped at Maura and grinned.  “Rematch?”

Jane frowned, eyeing the two’s interaction.  Were they dating?  Tommy definitely was attracted to her.  She could understand why; Maura was stunning.

Maura smiled politely.  “Anxious for another defeat?”  Jane slightly smirked at Maura’s reply.

Tommy chuckled.  “Confident.  I like that,” he said with a wink and left.

Maura sighed heavily as the door shut, relieved then anxious as she turned her attention back to Jane.  They looked at each other for a long moment before Maura broke the silence.

“I researched head injuries; your complete amnesia is highly unusual.  Do you remember your neurologist?”  Maura asked.

“Dr. Engle,” Jane offered, her gaze drifting down from her eyes.          

“She’s very . . . ,” Maura said, then noted Jane’s gaze briefly drop to her cleavage. “. . . capable,” she finished curiously.

“Uh,” Jane said with embarrassment, her gaze quickly popped up.  “Hey, I can’t help it - you’re beautiful,” she explained with a sheepish smile and shrug.

“Thank . . . you” Maura said hesitantly, pleased Jane thought so.   “Oh . . . almost for. . .got,” Maura said, opening up her purse with a slight wince.  Jane had to smile at her sensitivity to her amnesia. “For you,” Maura said with a satisfied smile as she presented Jane with a bag of peanuts.

Jane chuckled and smiled brightly.  “You really do care!”

“I do,” Maura said sincerely.  

They looked at each other a silent moment before Jane scratched the back of her head and offered “You want something to drink?”

“Water would be nice,” Maura said, getting a smile and nod. 

“I’m pretty sure I have that,” Jane joked.

Following Jane to the kitchen, Maura noted, “Dehydration is a common problem of flying.  The humidity level in an air plane is typically 10 to 20 %, notably lower than the typical and comfortable indoor humidity of 30 to 65 %.”

“So you want two glasses of water?” Jane asked with a slight smile, finding this woman . . . interesting.

Maura looked at her curiously.  “No, thank you.  One will be sufficient.”

“You sure?  I actually have plenty.  See?”  She said with amusement, turning the tap on for a few seconds to demonstrate.

“One is fine, thank you,” Maura said with a smile, watching Jane fill their glasses.  “It seems your humor has not been affected,” she noted. 

“If you say so,” Jane said with a small sigh, handing over the glass. 

“How are you?” Maura asked softly, taking the water and placing a hand on her forearm.

There was a warmth in her eyes that drew Jane in as she pondered how to answer. “I’m ok.  But I really don’t have a choice, you know?”

“I can’t imagine how unnerving it must be to have everyone around you know you but you have no recollection of them.”

“Yeah, that sucks,” Jane finally said, receiving a sympathetic nod and squeeze of her forearm.  For the first time since waking up, Jane began to feel comfortable.  No demands or expectations, just support from this incredibly attractive woman.

After Maura sipped the water, she suppressed a yawn, which did not go unnoticed.

“You must be tired from your flight,” Jane offered with a slight wince, not wanting the woman to leave.

“I am.  I suppose . . . I should go,” Maura said hesitantly, not wanting to go.

Jane frowned.  “Or not . . . I mean, my bed is big enough for two, right?” Jane said, closely looking at the beautiful woman.  “It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before, right?” Jane threw out there blindly.

“True,” Maura said. 

A big smile emerged as if the Detective had been given the best gift ever.  Damn, did she have good taste, or what?  Jane considered happily. 

“But wouldn’t you feel uncomfortable sleeping with someone you don’t know?” Maura asked curiously.

“I . . . want normalcy, Maura,” Jane admitted honestly, taking her hand.

“But we don’t normally sleep together,” Maura countered, tilting her head slightly.

“Then I’m an idiot,” Jane said bluntly.

“W . . . what??” Maura asked, clearly confused.

“Why would I not take every opportunity to sleep with my gorgeous girlfriend?” Jane offered with amazement.

It took Maura a moment to register the words.  “Oh!” she blurted, feeling flush at that thought.  “N . . . No, Jane, we are not . . . intimate,” she explained uncomfortably, causing a confused look.

“But . . . why not?!?”  Jane blurted in frustration, stunning Maura who blinked.  “Why would you have my mother and brother living with you?” Jane continued incredulously.

“They’re in the guest house, Jane, not living with me.  Angela needed a place after the divorce and your brother showed up later, in need of a place to stay as well,” Maura explained, seeing an incredulous look still on Jane’s face.  “I suppose I should clarify - we are intimate . . . but not sexually,” Maura amended, as accuracy was very important.  She looked at Jane who considered her words.

“But . . . ,” Jane said then sighed with great disappointment.  “Uh, thank you for that.”

“For not being sexually intimate?” Maura asked, confused and possibly insulted.

Jane rolled her eyes.  “For the housing,” she growled.

“Oh.  You’re welcome,” Maura said with a warm smile.

“Are you too tired to drive?” Jane asked softly.  “You could still stay here, I can take the couch.”

“I took a cab,” Maura said, touched by her thoughtfulness for what was essentially a stranger.  “I . . . really should go,” she said reluctantly, knowing she would be easily swayed if Jane persisted.

Jane nodded with disappointment.

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