Rizzoli & Isles 1. Two Digits

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**A/N: **I'll keep adding to this whenever a Rizzles oneshot that somehow has to do with a phonecall comes to my mind (hence the title, duh ;-) POV's and ratings may vary and will be indicated at the beginning of each oneshot. Happy reading! :)

PS: Everything written in between ** is texting.

EDIT 01/27/2014: If you have any ideas for phonecall-related oneshots, leave a review or PM me :)

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><p><span><strong>Two Digits<strong>

**Rating: **T for language.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Summary: **Jane's got a new cellphone, and her new phone number is very similar to Maura's. Which is why people who actually want to speak to Maura keep accidentally calling Jane... Written from Jane's POV.

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><p>The first time it happened, I was sitting at my desk doing paperwork.<p>

_Vrrrrt vrrrt!_

"Rizzoli?"

"Oh, seems like I dialed the wrong number. Sorry for disturbing you and goodbye."

"Yeah, bye." But the person on the other end of the line had already ended the call.

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><p>The second time occured only a few hours later. I was still stuck at my paperwork-covered desk, and so were Frost and Korsak, when there was that <em>Vrrrt vrrrt <em>noise again. Putting my pen down, I took the call. "Rizzoli."

"Oh... sorry... I must have dialed the wrong nummer."

_Really? Again?_

"Again?"

_Crap, I didn't mean to say that out loud... _"Yep, you're already the second person today who accidentally called me by dialling the wrong number."

"Really? That's odd... Oh, I think I've found the problem."

"Yeah?"

"The person I wanted to call and you - your phone numbers differ in only two digits." The woman gave a little laugh. "Anyway, sorry for disturbing you and have a nice day."

"Yeah, you too. Bye." I hung up and went back to work.

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><p>The next day, my phone remained quiet... until noon, that is. Rolling my eyes and muttering something like, "I swear, if this is someone diallin' the wrong number again..." I took the call. "Rizzoli."<p>

"Heyyyyy Janie," said a cheerful voice that made me frown: "Giovanni, I don't remember givin' my phone number to you."

"Nah, you didn't, but your hawt doctor friend gave me hers."

"Maura did **what**?!"

"Gave me her number, ya can ask her."

"Oh don't worry, I will." Suddenly remembering something from the day before, I asked my old classmate to repeat Maura's phone number to me, which he did. Except that it wasn't Maura's number.

Mentally preparing myself for what was to come, I took a deep breath. "Listen, G, I've got a new phone, and my new phone number's almost the same as Maura's."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Just the last two digits are different. Maura's got 96, I've got... That's not funny, damnit!" I punched the 'end call' button on my phone, threw the device onto my desk, and let out a puff of air that earned me a worried look from Korsak. "You okay over there?"

"One word: Giovanni..." I sighed.

"Your highschool classmate Giovanni?"

"Exactly. 'You're battin' for the other team and there's a sixty-nine at the end of your phone number!'- That's just the kind of joke he laughs about."

"Uh, Jane?" Frost piped up. "You're not really...?"

"Course not, but Giovanni thinks I'm gay. It's a long story." I glanced at my watch, grabbed my phone, and texted Maura: *Lunch together?*

She was quick to reply. *Sure. Let's meet at the café in 20 minutes."

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><p>We did just that, and as soon as we'd found a free table, I couldn't hold back anymore: "Maura, why the hell did you give your phone number to Giovanni?"<p>

"I didn't," she claimed.

"Oh yeah? Then where did he get your number from?"

"Well, you know I invited him over to my house-"

"... and kicked him out when he tried to lick your face-"

"... yes, but the point is that I went to the bathroom once and left my phone recharging on the kitchen table."

"So Giovanni stalked your phone? Asshole."

"Jane!"

"What? Stalkin' people's phones isn't nice!" I protested a little weakly and rubbed my forearm where Maura had punched it.

"Well, neither is cursing," she retorted with a smile - that smile she used to talk me into wearing dresses, eating veggies, or running a marathon with her. _In a spandex outfit that said P.U.K.E. - definitely one of the most embarassin' moments in my life. _I smiled a little at the memory before coming back to topic: "Fine, cursing is bad, but stalkin' your phone is worse, which is why we should take revenge on Giovanni. Any ideas?"

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><p>Well, I had no idea my best friend had such a mean streak in her... Let's just say Giovanni spent the next week running around in search of the person who had changed all his ringtones to random Disney songs.<p>

THE END

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><p><strong>AN: **Thoughts?


	2. Shipping Up To Houston

Random Rizzles Phonecalls

**Shipping Up To Houston**

**Rating: **K for fluff and adorable bickering :-)

**Disclaimer: **Rizzoli & Isles belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro and several other people, not including me.

**Summary: **Maura's attending a Medical Examiner conference in Houston, Texas. One evening, she gets a phonecall from her LLBFF. Written from Maura's POV.

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><p>I was just about to get comfortable on my hotel bed when my phone rang - and I didn't recognize the ringtone. Frowning, I retrieved the little device from the nightstand and checked the caller ID. <em>LLBFF. When and why did Jane put a new ringtone on my phone? Oh well, I'll just ask her. <em>Rolling over onto my back, I took the call. "Hi Jane."

"Hey. Did that ringtone ring a bell for you?"

"Not really, no," I had to admit. _I'm quite sure I've heard that tune before, but I don't remember where..._

"No? Well in that case, you'll have to hear it again." And with that, Jane hung up, leaving me staring at my phone. _What the...?_

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><p>The device in my hand played that mysterious ringtone again, and this time, I immediately pressed the 'take call' button. "Well?" Jane asked without preamble.<p>

"Well what?"

I could almost picture her signature eyeroll. "The ringtone, Maur. Did you recognize it?"

"Well, if I had to guess - which I don't do - I'd say it was a short version of 'Shipping Up To Boston'."

"Great job, Dr Google! And d'you know why I put it on your phone?" She didn't even wait for my reply. "Three clues: Shipping Up To Boston... Red Sox... and who's the biggest Red Sox fan you know?"

I smiled. "You, of course. Nice idea, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't mess with my ringtones again."

"Aww, that's too bad... Anyway, have you traded your designer heels for a pair of cowboy boots already?"

"Jane, that's a cliché. I've been here for almost a week and only seen five people wearing cowboy boots," I pointed out.

"Yeah? Then, what about a cowboy hat? You bought one of those?"

"Believe it or not, I did... Jane?"

"Huh?... Sorry, dropped my phone. Out of surprise, I guess - I never pegged you as the cowgirl type..."

"This isn't about my type, it's about sun protection, and since I don't like wearing baseball caps, I had to make do with the only other sort of headwear they sold."

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><p>A few moments of silence passed before I heard Jane laugh. "You know what? Buy those cowboy boots, a pair of jeans cut-offs, and a checked shirt, don't forget your hat at the hotel, and you're totally gonna rock BPD's next Halloween party."<p>

"Only if you dress up in a similar fashion," I provoked her, knowing that Jane Rizzoli could never resist a challenge... after complaining about it for a while. _Cue whiny answer in 3... 2... 1..._

"Ugh, do I have to? I hate it when people stare at my ass."

"A. Yes, you have to. B. People look at your behind all the time, whether you're wearing cut-offs or not, and honestly, I can't really blame them," I pointed out, which earned me a snorting noise from the other end of the line. Ignoring it, I went on: "It's pure biology, I - uh, they just can't help it..."

"What d'you mean, you can't help but stare at my ass?"

_Damn, I knew she was too good of a Detective to let this pass. _"Uhm, I wanted to say that sometimes, I can't help but wonder where you put all that junk food you eat," I quickly made up. _That's at least part of the truth, so I won't get any hives._

"Uh-uh..." I could tell Jane was still thinking about my last statement, but she didn't say anything for several moments, and neither did I. Until:

"Maur?"

"Yes?"

Her reply was so quiet I almost didn't catch it. "I miss you.".

"I miss you, too," I replied just as quietly, with a slightly sad smile. _Maybe more than I should miss someone who's 'just' my best friend..._

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><p>And then, right before things could get too... what would Jane call this, sappy?..., my best friend fell back into her usual sarcastic self. "Yeah, but I miss you more. I don't know how much longer I can put up with that Russian guy who's doing the autopsies while you're away at that stupid conference."<p>

"Dr Popov?"

"Uh-huh... When are you comin' home? That guy gives me the creeps!"

"I'll be home in two days."

"That's two days too many," she declared, and while I felt touched by the fact that she missed me so much, she didn't need to act like my replacement had tried to stab her with a scalpel or something.

"Jane, don't exaggerate. Dr Popov can't be worse than Dr Pike, right?"

"Yeah, but he may be a little... mad at me..."

"Oh no, what did you do?"

"Uhm, I might've called him Dr Smirnoff... accidentally..."

I burst out laughing; I just couldn't help it. "Jane!"

"I'm glad you think that's funny," came her dry reply, no doubt accompanied by an eyeroll. "But I'm the one who has to go to the morgue and hear him start mutterin' Russian swearwords as soon as I walk through the door!"

"You never told me you spoke Russian."

She frowned - I didn't have to see her to know that she did. "I don't."

"Then how do you know they're swearwords?"

"Uhm... 'cause I called him a nickname he obviously didn't like?"

"You're being sarcastic."

"Yep," she deadpanned. "You've become pretty good at recognizing that."

"Well, I'm learning from the best..." I couldn't stifle a yawn. "Sorry, it's been a long day."

"M-hm... Don't forget to buy that cowgirl outfit tomorrow."

"Sure. I'll buy one for you as well."

"Oh, that's not necessary," she replied quickly. "Besides, you don't even know my size."

"Yes, I do." I paused for a moment. "Is it normal for friends to know each other's exact shoe and clothes size?"

"We're not just friends, Maur, we're LLBFF's. Life-Long Best Friends Forever."

Her reply made me smile. "You're right."

"I'm always right."

I just shook my head, too tired to discuss that statement. "Good night and see you in two days."

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><p>"Yeah, see you. And for now, sweet dreams." With that, Jane ended the call and I rolled over onto my side, placing my phone back on the nightstand, but not before changing the alarm signal to the ringtone Jane had put on my phone. My last thought before falling asleep was, <em>I wonder if there's a song called, "Shipping Up To Houston"? It's a harbor town, just like Boston, so...<em>

THE END

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><p><strong>AN  
><strong>- For those who don't know yet: Dr Popov was briefly introduced during ep. 4x04 ("Killer in High Heels"). The nickname Dr Smirnoff is from Dorothy Snarker's recap of that episode, which can be found on AfterEllen.  
>- The ringtone Jane put on Maura's phone is the Rizzoli &amp; Isles opening theme :-)<p> 


	3. Cell Phone Risotto

Random Rizzles Phonecalls

**Cell Phone Risotto**

**Rating: **K

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine.

**Summary: **Jane's phone breaks down and Maura tries to fix it. Written from Maura's POV.

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><p><em>Ta ta ta ta taaaa-tata...<em>

"Dr Isles?"

"Hey Maur, it's me."

"Jane? Why are you calling me from Korsak's phone?"

"Cause mine got wet and doesn't work anymore."

"Oh." A thought crossed my mind: "Can you stop by at a supermarket on your way to the precinct and buy some rice?"

"Rice?"

"Yes, rice. You know, longish white grains that-"

Even though I couldn't see her, I still knew that she was rolling her eyes. "Maur, I know what rice is, and I'll buy some even though I've no idea what you need it for. See ya in a few."

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><p>Fifteen minutes later, my best friend swaggered into my office - without knocking, as usual - and held up a plastic bag of rice. "So what are we gonna do with this, make some cell phone risotto?"<p>

"I wouldn't recommend that, cell phones contain quite a few materials that shouldn't be ingested... Wait, was that a joke?"

She grinned. "Yep. So, what are we gonna do with the rice?"

I got up from my chair and motioned for Jane to follow me to the crime lab. Once there, I grabbed a large beaker from the nearest shelf, set it down on the table, and filled it with rice before holding out my hand: "Your phone, please."

Jane reluctantly handed me the device and watched as I placed it into the beaker so that it was almost covered in rice grains. "Now what?"

"Now we have to let osmosis do its work. You see, there's quite a lot of water inside your phone - what happened to it, by the way?"

Jane let out a puff of air and flopped down onto the edge of the table. "I tackled a perp, he reached for my gun, but ended up with my phone in his hand and dropped it to the ground, where it landed in a puddle of water. Can you make it work again? It's only been a week since I spent four freakin' hours in a cell phone shop helpin' Frankie pick a new phone, and I'm absolutely not in the mood for doing that again."

"I'll try, but I can't promise anything. We'll have to wait some time to see if this works." The announcement made Jane groan; patience wasn't exactly her strong point. "Can't we just use a hairdryer?"

"No, because we'd only be able to dry the outside of your phone that way, and most of the water is inside it. The rice grains, on the other hand, contain very little water, which means that water molecules will wander into the rice grains through their cell membranes until diffusive equilibrium is achieved."

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><p>Jane blinked a few times, and I half expected an eyeroll and a, "Maura, English please!", but then her face lit up in understanding: "You mean at the end of this, my phone will be dry 'cause the rice grains have sucked up all the water?"<p>

"That's no scientifically accurate description, but yes, it's basically what will happen in this beaker during the next few hours, at the end of which I hope you'll be able to use your phone again."

Before Jane could say anything, my phone vibrated, indicating an incoming text message: *Hey doc, can u send Jane up here? We've got a suspect to interrogate. Thx Frost*.

"Let me guess, Frost and Korsak want me to come upstairs?" The question caused me to look up at my best friend in confusion: "How did you know that?"

Jane hopped off the table and turned to leave, but not before throwing me a wink over her shoulder. "I'm a detective, remember?"

_Of course. _Her reply made me smile... until I remembered the document I'd been working on when Jane had walked in. _The latest autopsy report, vomit - 'Vomit'? Alright, I've spent too much time with Jane._ Shaking my head at my thoughts, I left the crime lab for my office.

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><p>One of the first things I did the next morning was to check on the glass beaker with Jane's phone in it. Carefully pulling the phone out from between the rice grains, I pressed the 'On' button... but the screen didn't light up. Sighing, I took my own phone and texted Korsak: *Please send Jane to the crime lab if she's not busy right now. Thanks.*<p>

Jane arrived less than two minutes later, looking impatient. "Did it work?" Without waiting for my reply, she grabbed her phone, tried to switch it on, frowned when the screen remained dark, and put the device back on the table with a shrug. "Guess I'll have to go to that cell phone shop again, then."

"I can come with you, if you like," I offered.

"Yes, please. I can definitely do without that slimy shop assistant hitting on me this time." I must have looked confused, because she added: "Remember how we got rid of Giovanni?"

The memory made me smile. "Of course I do. So, you want us to pretend to be lovers when that shop assistant tries to flirt with you?"

"Exactly. Let's just hope he won't ask for a threesome, like Giovanni still does everytime he sees us." Jane made a face, and I fully understood her. _If I actually got Jane into my bed... Wait, where did that thought come from? Anyway, I'm not opposed to threesomes, but I wouldn't want to share her with anyone else, at least not until some later point in our relationship..._

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><p>"Maur?"<p>

"Huh?... Sorry, I zoned away a bit."

"I noticed, but it's zoned _out_, not _away._"

"Whatever." I mentally filed the correct expression away before speaking again: "Which type does that shop assistant belong to?"

"What do you mean, which type?"

"You told me once that the're basically two types of men, those who don't like female cops and those who want you to put your handcuffs to use."

"Neither, he's more of a 'too many baseball analogies' type... Uhm, I think the guys are already wondering where I am. See you." And with that, she almost ran out of the crime lab, leaving me standing there feeling slightly confused. _What was that? I definitely have to research baseball analogies when I have time, I want to know why she ran away like that._

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><p><strong>AN**

- I haven't tried it myself, but drying your phone by leaving it in a container of dry rice grains for a couple hours is actually supposed to work. Is anyone with an old phone (which you don't need anymore 'cause you've just got a new one) willing to try? :-)

- As for the baseball analogies, many of them have to do with sex, so explaining them to Maura would require talking about sex, which Jane doesn't like. Savvy? :-)


	4. The M Word

Random Rizzles Phonecalls

**The M Word**

**Rating: **K+  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Not mine.  
><strong>AN: **This is an AU in which Maura and Jane are 14-year-old high school classmates/ friends. It's set in the present, not in the time when they actually were teenagers, so they have cellphones and computers and stuff. Oh yeah, 3rd person POV.

**Warning: **Biological girl problems ahead :)

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><p>Maura Isles was just about to finish her Chemistry homework when her phone rang. Quickly writing down the last two words of her essay ("trichloroacetic acid"), she reached for the little device and took the call. "Hello?"<p>

"Hey Maur." The caller didn't have to state their name; there was only one person who called Maura by that nickname. "I, uhm, I've got a little problem here," Jane Rizzoli went on. "And since I don't have an older sister I could ask, and I sure as hell won't talk to my mother about this, I figured I'd call you. Uh, I can call you back later if you're busy doin' your homework or anything..."

"Don't worry, you're not keeping me from doing anything important. What's the matter, do you want me to come over?"

"Nope, I'm great. Well, not that great, my stomach kinda hurts and there's that 'little problem', but-"

Maura let out a sigh. "Jane, please just tell me what's wrong with you."

"Okay. Uhm, it's, ya know, that time of the month and I'm tryin' to put this damn thing in there, but it just won't fit," Jane tried to explain, which only served to make Maura more confused than she already was: "What time of the month, exactly? And what are you trying to put where?"

"Jeez, Maura, d'you want me to write it down?"

"That wouldn't make sense, since we're talking over the phone at the moment," Maura stated the obvious, and a few miles away, Jane rolled her eyes. "That was a rhetorical question, genius."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

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><p>"So, what exactly is your problem?" Maura came back to topic, making a mental note to brush up on her rhetorical question-recognizing skills. "You said something about a stomach ache and it being a certain time of the month... Wait, are you menstruating?"<p>

Jane cringed at the word, but nodded, momentarily forgetting that Maura couldn't see her through the phone. "Yeah."

"Oh, good. I was starting to get worried that you might be seriously ill. You know, a stomach ache can be a symptom of many things, from a harmless congestion to poisoning to-"

Jane rolled her eyes. "Enough, Dr Google! Yes, I'm-" she lowered her voice- "menstruating, and I'm havin' some cramps, but that's not why I called you."

Maura remained silent, waiting for her classmate to continue.

"Well, uhm, I don't know if I'm doing somethin' wrong, but sanitary pads always stick everywhere 'cept to my panties. So I thought I'd try using a tampon instead, but it just won't fit in!"

Maura thought about it for a moment. "What size is that tampon you're trying to insert?"

"Really, Maur?" Jane's voice was getting closer and closer to a whine. "It's one of those tiny things that are hardly the size of my pinkie, but it's still too big! And I think Ma's gettin' suspicious as to why I've been in the bathroom for, like, half an hour!"

"Turn on the shower," Maura suggested. "And try to relax. Take deep breaths. Inhale... exhale... in-"

"What's this, yoga for dummies?"

Maura frowned. "I'm just trying to help you."

"Sorry," Jane grumbled, followed by a muttered curse. "Damn, how do other girls do this?"

"Well, there are several different techniques, you'll just have to find out which one works best for you. I usually do it standing up with my foot propped up on the edge of the bathtub or-"

"Woo-hoo! I did it!" Jane did a little victory dance before sitting down on the toilet lid. "Uhm, yeah. Thanks Maur."

"You're welcome."

"No, really. I don't know what I'd have done without you."

The declaration made Maura smile. "See you at school tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya." Jane hung up, turned off the shower, and went to her room to do her Chemistry homework. _Normally_ _I'd just ask to copy them from Maur, but I can't do that if we have to write a full text. My Chem teacher isn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but even he'll notice if two students hand in the exact same essay._

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><p><strong>AN: **This was my first AU fic, so please be nice :)


	5. Misunderstanding

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**Misunderstanding**

**Rating: **T for language.

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

**Summary: **A misunderstanding on Casey's part or: something that (unfortunately) won't happen on the show. Jane's POV.

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><p>I'm a cop, I like sports and beer, and I hate dressing up, so I must be gay, right? Well, that's what most people think. My boyfriend wasn't one of them - until last night, that is...<p>

The evening before

"So, what are we watching?" I asked while flopping down onto Maura's couch, kicking off my boots, and propping my feet up on the coffee table. "And please don't tell me it's another documentary on cockroaches."

Maura shook her head no. "We're watching a French movie called..."

"French? Really?" I did my best not to whine. "Maur..."

"N'aies pas peur, il y a des sous-titres."

"...?"

"Don't worry, it's subtitled," Maura translated, then placed her glass of wine on a nearby shelf and sat down next to me.

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><p>Five minutes into the movie, and my fingers were already itching to grab the remote and switch to a sports channel or something. Hell, even that cockroach documentary had been more exciting than watching French high school kids talk about books I'd never heard of, let alone read!<p>

Maura, though, seemed to be absolutely engrossed in the movie, so I forced myself to keep watching the screen... well, I tried to, but that movie was so- "Woah! Maur, why didn't you tell me about... that?" Squeezing my eyes shut, I gestured towards the screen where one of the high school chicks was, ahem, getting it on with her boyfriend. Like, fully naked and in full big screen HD. "Look, I don't mind if you're watching porn movies, but please don't make me watch them with you!"

"Jane." I knew that voice, it roughly translated to, "You're a grown woman, so please stop behaving like a whiny toddler." Except that toddlers didn't watch French porn with their friends.

"Jane, you can open your eyes, the sex scene is over."

"You sure?" I asked, still keeping my eyes shut.

"Yes, I'm sure. I can't lie, remember?"

"Yeah, right." Carefully peeking at the TV through my eyelashes, I realized that High School Chick was fully clothed again and her boyfriend was nowhere in sight. "Whew. I need more beer, you want another glass of wine, too?"

"Yes, please."

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><p>When I returned to the living room a few minutes later, Maura had paused the movie. "Uh, don't you wanna keep watching it?" I asked, feeling a bit confused.<p>

"Yes I do, but I wanted to wait for you." She patted the spot next to her on the couch, indicating for me to sit back down, which I did. "Oh, and by the way, it's not porn."

"Yeah? Then what do the French call movies in which people sleep with each other and you can see literally everything?"

"Does this movie have a real plot?" Maura asked back.

"I don't really understand it, but I suppose it does."

"Exactly, and that's why it's not pornographic. Porn movies have little to no plot, they're all about showing people having sexual inter-"

"Maur, just start the damn movie again."

"Fine. But interrupting people is rude."

"I know, but you were about to say a word I really didn't want to hear."

"Intercourse?"

"Maura!"

"I'll take that as a yes." Smirking, she reached for the remote and pushed Play.

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><p>We were about an hour into the movie when my phone rang. Mouthing "Sorry!" towards my best friend, I got up from the couch and took the call. "Rizzoli."<p>

No reaction.

"Hello?"

Right when I was about to hang up, there was a voice in the background. It sounded a little muffled, like the caller's phone was in his pocket or something, but it was the voice of Col. Casey Jones, otherwise known as my boyfriend. "Hey Matt," he said.

"Hey," another male voice replied. "How's your cop girlfriend?"

"Jane? She's fine, but..."

I pressed my phone closer to my ear, not wanting to miss any part of their conversation. (C'mon, I'm a detective, curiosity is my middle name!)

"... but what?" Matt (or whatever his name was) inquired.

"Jane?"

I motioned for Maura to be quiet so that I could concentrate on the conversation next to my ear. There were some static crackling noises before Casey spoke again: "I told you about Jane's best friend, right? Dr Isles?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I'm no expert in female behavior, but the amount of time those two spend with each other... I think they're more than 'just best friends'."

"Aww man, that's a shame. Your girlfriend looked really hot in that photo you showed me, but if she's really battin' for the other team, you can't do anything."

I hung up, not waiting for Casey's reply, flopped back down onto the couch and stared at the wall. Maura immediately paused the movie and turned towards me, placing a hand on my knee. "Jane? Who was it?"

"Casey. Well, not really, I think he forgot to lock his phone screen and accidentally called me. His voice sounded muffled, like his phone was in his pocket."

Maura remained quiet, waiting for me to continue.

"Yeah, so he was talking to one of his Army buddies, Matt or somethin' like that."

"And what exactly were they talking about?"

"Me."

"You?"

"Yes, me. Casey's 'cop girlfriend' who he thinks is gay 'cause she spends so much time with her female 'best friend'."

"Oh."

"'_Oh?' _That's all you have to say?"

"It's not the first time someone mistakes us for a lesbian couple," Maura pointed out.

"True, but it feels really... weird if your own boyfriend thinks you're actually into women. I have to go and talk to him." I made a move to get up from the couch, but Maura stopped me: "Jane, even if it wasn't raining this heavily, I wouldn't let you drive your car with the amount of beer you've consumed. You can talk to Casey tomorrow."

"I could take a cab," I suggested, not quite ready to give in. _My boyfriend thinks I'm gay. Whatever gave him that idea, I have to talk him out of it._

"Jane, it's late, it's raining, and I'd like to watch this movie with you. Please?"

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><p>One of the first things I'd learned about Maura Isles is that her puppy dog eyes are impossible to resist. For me, at least. So, I sat back down and grabbed the remote, turning to look at Maura before pushing Play: "Next week, we're watching my TV program of choice."<p>

"Which is?"

"A Red Sox game."

"Of course. What else?"

"Hey, I watch other stuff too!"

"Other than baseball? Okay, you do watch football and hockey."

"... and weird French movies and cockroach documentaries."

"Because I made you watch them."

I rolled my eyes and lightly poked her side. "Smartass. Wait, are there any more too graphic sex scenes in that movie?"

"Why, yes, there are."

"Great," I grumbled sarcastically. "Really, Maur, the things I do for you..."

END

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><p><strong>AN: **Bonus points to anyone who can guess the movie they were watching :)


	6. Random Rizzles Ringtones

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**Random Rizzles Ringtones**

**Rating: **K+

**Disclaimer: **Please go back to the last oneshot and carefully read the disclaimer there.

**A/N: **And the Oscar... uhm, the bonus points from "Misunderstanding" go to one of my guest reviewers: Spencer was the first person to point out that the movie Maura and Jane were watching in that story was, "Blue is the Warmest Color" :)

**Summary of this oneshot: **Just a few random ringtones from Maura's and Jane's phones, and the story of how they got there. Third person POV. Oh, and everything written in between ** is a phone ringing.

* * *

><p>"Hey Maur, found anything yet?" Detective Jane Rizzoli asked while swaggering into the morgue of Boston PD (without knocking, as usual). "Uh, sorry, thought you'd already started with the autopsy..."<p>

"I haven't," Dr Maura Isles stated the obvious, "but I can tell you that our victim has a tattoo on his left upper arm."

Jane leant forward across the steel table to take a look. "Is that a tiger? Nice."

"You think so?"

"Well, a tiger's better than the name of his ex-girlfriend or some Chinese letters that are supposed to mean something badass, but actually translate to 'I love figure skating', don't you think?"

Maura frowned a bit. "What's wrong with figure skating?"

"Nothing, but-"

* * *

><p>*There's antimony, arsenic, aluminum, selenium,<br>And hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and rhenium  
>And nickel, neodymium, neptunium, germanium,<br>And iron, americium, ruthenium, uranium,  
>Europium, zirconium, lutethium, vanadium,<br>And lanthanum and osmium and astatine and radium  
>And gold and protactinium and indium and gallium...*<p>

* * *

><p>"Dr Isles?... Jeremy! How are you?... I'm fine, thanks... Really? That's great!... Okay, I'll bring a friend - if I can talk her into wearing a dress, that is. Bye!" Maura ended the call and met her friend's questioning gaze. "That was Jeremy," the doctor stated the obvious once again.<p>

"No shit Maura, kinda gathered that," Jane replied with her trademark eyeroll. "Who the hell is Jeremy and why do I have to dress up for him?"

"Jeremy is an old college aquaintance of mine who's coming to Boston next weekend, and I'd like you to wear a dress because he invited us to dinner at Le Beau Truc."

"That fancy French place?" Jane made a face. "No thanks. You can go there, eat oysters and catch up with your ex-boyfriend - I'll enjoy my date with my couch, some beer, and a Red Sox game on TV."

"The Red Sox aren't even playing next weekend." Maura was really proud of herself for knowing this, but Jane merely raised an eyebrow: "I've got a few games recorded."

"And I can watch them with you, if you like, but next weekend I'd like to have dinner at Le Beau Truc with you and Jeremy, who, by the way, isn't my ex-boyfriend."

Jane made a snorting noise, which Maura ignored. "Besides, he's been married for five years."

"What, no statistics on married men cheating on their wives with female college classmates?"

"Husbands."

"What?"

"Married men cheating on their husbands. Jeremy is gay."

"Oh... uhm... okay... What does he do for a living?"

"He's a chemistry tutor at UCLA. That's actually the reason why he put that ringtone on my phone - like I said, he's a chemistry tutor, and his ringtone on my phone is a song about the periodic table of the elements, you see?"

"Yeah. What's your ringtone on his phone, another funeral march?"

* * *

><p>*Because I'm a blonde, I don't have to think<br>I talk like a baby and I never pay for drinks  
>Don't have to worry 'bout getting a man<br>If I keep this blonde and I keep this tan  
>'Cause I'm a blonde, yeah yeah yeah...*<p>

* * *

><p>"Ugh," Jane grumbled as she reached for her phone. "Rizzoli... What?! I don't know, ask him yourself!... No, I really don't know! Bye!"<p>

"My hypothesis is that the person who called you is a blonde whom you don't like very much," Maura stated while snapping on a fresh pair of latex gloves, and Jane couldn't stop herself from smiling: "In other words, you guessed."

"I didn't!" the doctor protested.

"Did, too. Anyway, your 'hypothesis' wasn't entirely correct - you know that new Drug Unit detective? Miley somethin'? It's not that I don't like her, it's just that she fulfills every single prejudice against blondes I've ever heard. Uhm, no offense."

"Why would I be offended?"

"Cause you're a blonde, too, and yet you're the smartest person I've ever met."

Maura felt her face grow hot and wasn't quite sure if she was also blushing a little. "Why, thanks, Detective."

"No, really," Jane reassured her friend before coming back to topic: "So, Miley or whatever her name is - I've known her for less than two weeks, and during that time she's managed to wreck a squad car while trying to park it, stand in front of a copy machine for ten minutes, trying to find out how it works, before someone walked by and suggested she should probably switch it on first, and get asked out by at least three different men. Like I said, a blonde prejudice on legs."

* * *

><p>Dr Isles made a "Hmm" sound. "I still don't understand why you gave her your phone number. Did she ask you out on a date as well?"<p>

"What? Hell no! It was Frankie's idea that Miley should have a fellow female detective to talk to about certain things, and I might've been a little drunk when I agreed to it."

"I see."

"Yeah. Problem is that she's started calling me, like, every five minutes to talk about stuff like-" Jane pitched her voice about two octaves higher- "'Jane, do you think you brother likes me? Like, really likes me? 'Cause I think I have a crush on him'... et cetera, et cetera. It's driving me crazy, and not in a good way, which is why-" the detective made a big show of changing a few settings on her phone- "I'm gonna change her ringtone to silence. Right. Now." Mission accomplished, Jane re-attached the little device to her belt. "Now let's talk about Rocky here."

Maura furrowed her brow in confusion: "Rocky?"

"Cause of his tiger tattoo. I think I've got the song on my phone..." Jane scrolled through her playlist. "Yep, there it is."

* * *

><p>*...So many times it happens too fast,<br>You trade your passion for glory;  
>Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past,<br>You must fight just to keep them alive

It's the  
>Eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight,<br>Risin' up to the challenge of our rival  
>And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night,<br>And he's watching us all with the eye  
>Of the tiger...*<p>

* * *

><p>"Okay, we definitely have to watch the Rocky movies some time," Jane commented Maura's confused expression. The M.E. seemed to think for a moment and then nodded her head: "I'll watch them with you if you have dinner with Jeremy and me next weekend. Deal?"<p>

"Ugh, okay. But do I really have to wear a dress?"

Maura simply grinned, knowing that Jane Rizzoli actually enjoyed dressing up from time to time (even though she'd never admit it for fear of losing her 'badass' reputation). "You know I love seeing you in a dress, but you can of course wear pants if you feel more comfortable in them."

"Phew, thanks."

Maura's reply was interrupted by Jane's phone vibrating with an incoming text message. "Korsak thinks he's found something. Call me when you're done with the autopsy?"

"Sure. Go do your gumshoe thing."

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, Senior Criminalist Susie Chang stopped in her tracks at the morgue door when she heard her boss humming a tune. <em>What the... when did Dr Isles start humming during autopsies? And what's that tune, anyway? Maybe I should ask Detective Rizzoli, I think I saw her leaving the morgue a few minutes ago...<em>

END

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

1) The songs I used in this oneshot (in order of appearance):

"The Elements" by Tom Lehrer

"Cause I'm a Blonde" from _Earth Girls Are Easy_ (1988)

"Eye of the Tiger" from _Rocky III_ (1982)

2) I'm thinking about writing a longer story that's based on this oneshot - you know, who is "Rocky", why does he have a tiger tattoo, and how did he end up on Maura's autopsy table? The story would be about crime (duh), but with a few humorous moments and perhaps a Rizzles ending. What do you think?

EDIT 04/16/2014: The longer story that's based on this oneshot is called "Eye of the Tiger". It's available in both English and German, and I'll try to publish a new chapter every week until the season 5 premiere.


	7. Not So Amazing Grace

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**Not So Amazing Grace**

**Rating:** K+ to T for language

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement intended, I make no money with this, yada yada, you know the drill.

**Summary: **Jane calls her LLBFF because her new (and noisy) neighbors prevent her from sleeping. Maura's POV.

**Warning: **Sad ending.

**A/N: **...which is why I consired publishing this seperately, because 'Random Rizzles Phonecalls' is marked as 'Humor/Friendship' and sad endings don't really fit into the Humor category. However, I decided to publish it here, together with another oneshot that will hopefully cheer you up a bit after reading this one :)

* * *

><p><span>Strike One<span>

_Please don't let it be work, I only just got home, _I thought when my phone rang. "Dr Isles?"

"HEY MAUR, IT'S JANE, CAN I COME OVER?"

I flinched and held the phone away from my ear. "Of course, but why are you yelling?"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"WHY ARE YOU YELLING?" I repeated considerably louder.

"CAUSE IT'S FRIGGIN' LOUD IN HERE! CAN I PLEASE COME OVER?"

"SURE, YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE TO ASK."

"OKAY, THANKS, SEE YA IN TEN."

* * *

><p>Ten minutes later, my best friend showed up on my doorstep. I'm quite sure she broke a few traffic regulations along the way, because when <strong>I<strong> drive to **her** appartment, it takes me at least fifteen minutes, but I digress. "You look terrible," was the first thing I said, and Jane rolled her eyes. "Gee, thanks. Can I come in?"

"Sure." I stepped out of the way. "Do you want a beer?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Coming right up." Carrying Jane's beer and a glass of wine for myself, I made my way to the couch and sat down next to my friend. "I'd like to apologize for earlier, when I said you looked terrible. That came out wrong, and I normally don't greet people that way, but-"

"Hey, it's okay, I know I look like shi- uhm, like I haven't slept in a week. Which isn't too far from the truth, by the way."

"Well, that explains the darkening of your nasojugal folds," I stated.

"Is that googlespeak for the dark circles under my eyes?"

"It is. How long have you actually gone without sleeping?" _I certainly hope it wasn't an entire week, that would be extremely unhealthy._

"Uhm, about three days. Since my new neighbors moved in."

I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"They live across the hall from me, and they like to make noise. Like, really really loud noise, and preferably at times when I'm tryin' to sleep. Before you ask, I tried talking to them, but they-" Jane's head dropped forward. She jerked back up and continued: "Wouldn't open-" This time, her head dropped to the side- "The door... Hey! Stop pokin' me!"

"Sorry, but I can't have you fall asleep on the couch. If I did, you'd spend tomorrow complaining about the pain in your neck and back all day long."

Maybe Jane was just too tired to argue, but she lifted herself up from the couch and followed me to the bedroom. I tried to drag her into the bathroom so that she could at least brush her teeth, but Jane immediately crawled under the sheets and was out like... _a candle? A fire? A light? I've never been good with colloquialisms... _Anyway, she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Thankfully she'd left her gun at her appartment before coming over to my house, so all I had to do to make things a bit more comfortable for her (and keep my sheets clean) was remove her shoes.

* * *

><p><span>Strike Two<span>

Much like the day before, my phone rang right when I entered my house. "Dr Isles?"

"HEY, CAN I STAY AT YOURS AGAIN TONIGHT? MY NEIGHBORS ARE DRIVIN' ME NUTS!"

_I believe this is what people call a déj__à vu experience. _"OF COURSE. DRIVE SAFELY."

"THANKS MAUR, SEE YA IN A FEW."

The rest of the night went over in a similar way to the previous one, although I managed to ask Jane a question before she fell asleep: "What kind of noise do your neighbors make, exactly?"

"Music. Really loud music-" And with that, she was out like a light (I had looked up the correct expression in my lunch break today) once again.

* * *

><p><span>Strike Three<span>

When I got home from work on the third day, I was greeted by the sight of Jane Rizzoli sitting on my couch. "I used my spare key to get in," she said in lieu of a greeting. "Hope you don't mind."

"Of course not; I wouldn't have given you a key to my house if I minded." I slipped out of my heels and padded over to the couch, where I sat down next to Jane. "What's wrong?"

"My neighbors, just like the last two days." Her voice sounded even throatier than usual, and now that I was sitting next to her, I could see that the area around her eyes looked a bit puffy. "Have you been crying?" I asked softly, so as not to startle Jane.

"Nope, just those fuckin' hormones. Oh, and maybe I'm gettin' hay fever, too. Some people in my family have that, and it's genetic, right?"

"It is, but please stop trying to change topic. Why did you cry?"

"Really, Maur? What are you, my damn shrink?"

"No, I'm your best friend, and I'm trying to help you. But that won't work if you keep shutting me out."

"Well maybe I don't want your help."

"That's okay," I assured her. "I'm right here if you need me, though."

* * *

><p>A few moments of silence passed before Jane reached for my hand. "Maur?"<p>

I took her hand in mine and squeezed lightly, letting her know I was there for her, both literally and figuratively.

"My, uhm, neighbors... the ones that prevent me from sleepin'..." She briefly glanced at me before staring at the wall again. "The 'noise' they make is music. Bagpipe music, to be exact." Jane took a deep breath, as if to gather her courage for the end of her story. "At first, it was just loud and annoying, but today, when I got home from work... theyplayedAmazingGrace."

I frowned. "I don't see why... Oh. The song that was played at Barry's funeral."

"Uh-huh. Now you know the reason I cried; happy?"

Instead of responding with words, I shifted closer to Jane and put my arms around her shoulders. She stiffened at first, but quickly relaxed into the embrace. "I didn't want to cry, I really didn't, but when I heard that song-"

"Sshh, it's okay." I started rubbing circles on her back. "Are you listening to me?"

Her hair tickled my neck as she nodded. "Good, because this is important. You're Jane Rizzoli, Homicide Detective, and that's a big part of your personality. But there's another part as well - Jane Rizzoli, a woman who just lost a colleague, a partner, a friend. And Jane, even a self-declared badass like you is allowed to cry, to mourn the loss of said friend. Tears are nothing to be ashamed of in a situation like this."

Jane sniffled, gulped, and pulled back a little so that she could look at my face. "Thanks Maur. And sorry I ruined your dress."

"You didn't. Human tears are mostly made of salt water, they won't stain."

"Thank God," she tried to joke, but it came out sounding more like a sob. "Uhm, d'you have Kleenex or somethin'?"

"Sure, in the kitchen-" Both our phones started ringing, almost simultaneously. We had a case.

* * *

><p>During the next few days, we learned that Jane's bagpipe-playing neighbors were involved in that case - in fact, they were the last people who had seen the murder victim alive. Since the victim was a well-known politician and the killer would probably go after witnesses as well, Jane's neighbors (and their bagpipes) were placed in WITSEC, a fact that my best friend was very happy about. "They really helped us with the case, but I also really need my sleep, which is why I'm really happy that they're gonna move to Nebraska or wherever. Does that make sense?"<p>

END

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I don't really know what to say, except "RIP Barry Frost/Lee Thompson Young". Lee's been dead for almost a year, but the episode with Frost's funeral brought back all the feelings and questions that will probably never be answered - at least that's what I felt like while watching 5x02, and I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one. This oneshot was my way of coping with that episode; please let me know what you think about it (the oneshot and/or the episode).


	8. Soccer

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**Soccer **(sorry, couldn't help it :)

**Rating: **K+ for minor language

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Rizzoli & Isles, Maura and Jane would have started dating in the very first episode. (Okay, they did go on a date - well, they didn't call it a date, but it totally was one - at the end of that episode. But I still don't own the show. Same thing goes for the 2014 Soccer World Cup, by the way.)

**Summary: **Jane broke two ribs while tackling a perp to the ground. She (begrudgingly) stays at home for a week and, with nothing else to do, watches the Soccer World Cup on TV. During one of the games, she starts texting her LLBFF.

**A/N: **I suppose some of the credit for this goes to angeliqueFanfic's "Texting", which was the first fanfic I've read that only consists of text messages and phonecalls. Give it a try... if you're old enough, that is. "Texting" is M-rated for a reason.

Now, on with the story.

* * *

><p>J: They ain't even singing along 2 their anthem<p>

M: First of all, 'ain't' isn't a word. Secondly, who are you talking about?

J: Some of the German soccer players.

M: Oh, you're watching the Soccer World Cup?

J: It's not like I've got anything else 2 do

M: You could always read some Shakespeare, or learn Spanish.

J: Spanish? Last time u suggested Finnish.

M: Yes, but I thought Spanish might be easier to learn for you, as it's very similar to Italian.

J: The only Italian I know is some food-related words & stuff like hello, goodbye, and...

M: ...and?

J: Ti amo.  
>J: Means I love you.<p>

M: I figured. It's similar to French, Je t'aime.

J: Is that all u learned at ur fancy French boarding school? ;)

M: Of course not. I never got to say Je t'aime when I was still in school.

J: Really?

M: I was Maura the Bore-A, I didn't have any real friends, much less a boyfriend.

J: Aww, don't cry

M: I'm not. So you had a boyfriend at school?

J: Yeah, when I was 16

M: What was his name?

J: Casey

M: Casey Jones? As in, your ex-almost-husband?

J: Yeah. Can we please not talk about him?

M: Sorry.

...

* * *

><p>...<p>

J: Damnit!

M: What is it?

J: Germany just scored a goal

M: Oh.

J: And the guy who scored doesn't have any leg muscles

M: Yes he does, otherwise he wouldn't be able to stand upright, let alone play soccer.

J: *rolls eyes* I know. But his legs are so thin, it really looks like he doesn't have any muscles there

M: So, you're a leg male?

J: Leg man, Maur, and where did u even get that expression from?

M: Your little brother.

J: Which one?

M: Frankie. And you didn't answer my question.

J: Yeah, I guess I am.  
>J: A leg man, I mean.<p>

M: Oh, that's why I always catch you looking at my legs.

J: WHAT? I don't look at your...

M: You know, Frankie also taught me another colloquialism. Something about the Nile being more than just a river in Egypt, which is true because it flows through several African countries.

J: That's not what Frankie meant, Maur. Denial - dah Nile - the Nile, got it?

M: Oh! I see. You're denying that you enjoy looking at my legs.

J: I don't!  
>J: Wearing heels all the time does something for your legs, but I don't look at them like I'd look at a guy's legs<br>J: How did we even move from soccer to my love life?

M: Yes you do.  
>M: How exactly do you look at a man's legs?<br>M: I asked if you were a leg man, told you about that expression Frankie taught me, and you denied the fact that you sometimes look at my legs.

J: A. I never look there. B. Rhetorical question. C. You know how.

M: A. This is getting ridiculous. C. No I don't.

J: K, maybe I should rephrase that. I sometimes look at a guy's legs & try 2 imagine what's in between them

M: Most likely a penis, unless you're looking at a transsexual woman.

J: *rolls eyes* Thanks, Captain Obvious

M: Captain who?

J: Ask Frankie

M: Okay, bye.

J: No! Not right now!

M: :P

J: Did u really just stick ur tongue out at me?

M: Yes I did. I rarely use emoticons, but this situation just begged for one.

J: If u were here, I'd tickle u till u begged me to stop ;)

M: You should wait with that until your ribs are fully healed.

J: Yes, Doctor :P  
>J: Game's over, BTW. We lost.<p>

M: That's a pity.

J: Nah, we're still in the last 16. We're playing against Belgium next Tuesday.

M: May I call Frankie now and ask who this Captain Obvious is?

J: Yeah, but u may also ask me :)

M: Okay, who is he?

J: Not a real person, just something u say when someone around u states the obvious  
>J: Like, if I showed up at ur door all wet &amp; you'd say 'Oh, it's raining', I'd roll my eyes &amp; say 'Captain Obvious, Maur'.<p>

M: Look outside.

J: Why?

M: It started raining.

J: LOL. Coincidence?

M: I don't believe in coincidences.  
>M: I have to get back to work.<p>

J: K, bye

M: Bye. Wait, do you want me to come over when I get home from work?

J: U sure u can handle that? I can get really cranky when I'm forced 2 lie on my couch & do nothing

M: Since you're already on the couch, we can watch a movie. I'll even let you pick.

J: Awesome! See ya in a few hours

M: I'm looking forward to it, bye :)

J: Bye :)

END

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **There's an NCIS reference hidden in here somewhere. Bonus points if you find it :)


	9. My Phone Has Grown Legs

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**My Phone Has Grown Legs**

**Rating: **K

**A/N  
><strong>When I asked you to find the NCIS reference in the last chapter, I didn't realize there were actually two of them: "I don't believe in coincidences" (Gibbs' rule #39) and Maura's remark about the transsexual (can be seen as a reference to episode 1x19, in which Tony kisses a woman who's actually a guy). It's been a while since I watched the first NCIS seasons, so I didn't even think of the second one while writing my story. Thanks to the people who pointed it out to me :)

**Summary: **This one is a bit AU, as it's set a few years in the future. It features a cell phone, a tortoise, some duct tape, and a four-year-old combining these things in the best (worst?) way possible. Maura's POV.

* * *

><p>"Maura, where's my phone?"<p>

I almost knocked over my cup of tea. "Jane! Don't sneak up on me like that, you scared me!"

"Sorry, but do you know where my phone is? 'Cause I left it right here on the counter, went to the bathroom, and now it's gone!"

"Maybe your daughter took it?" I suggested. "She and I are the only 'suspects' in this case, and you have to believe me when I say I didn't take it, because I can't lie."

Jane grumbled something only for herself to hear.

"Excuse me?"

"I told Chrissy not to touch my phone when I'm not around, but it seems like she didn't listen." She flopped down onto the chair next to mine. "Why am I even surprised? According to Ma, I never did what she said when I was a kid, so it's only fair that _my _kid won't listen to me, either."

"Mama? Mauwa?"

We turned around to see little Cristina standing in the doorway. She was shifting her weight between her feet, much like she did when she really had to go to the bathroom... or when she'd done something she wasn't supposed to do. "Mama, your phone haves legs."

Jane frowned. "My phone has... sweetie, cell phones don't suddenly grow legs. Did you take it?"

"No! It growed legs," Cristina insisted. "Durtle legs. See?" She stepped aside to reveal my tortoise, Bass. On top of his shell, there was a small grey lump that hadn't been there a few minutes before. It looked almost like-

"Duct tape," Jane confirmed my suspicions from her position kneeling next to Bass. "Cristina Michelle, where'd you get that duct tape from and why did you stick it to Bass' shell?"

"Uncle Fwankie. He said I should take re... re-fench on you."

I chuckled, remembering how Angela had told me the story of Jane tying her brother to a chair with some duct tape when they were kids. Jane gave me one of her infamous 'bad cop' glares, momentarily forgetting that I was one of the few people who weren't intimidated by that glare. _Okay, maybe a little bit intimidated. _"Sorry."

"Right." Jane went back to removing the duct tape from Bass' shell, which looked like a pretty difficult task, but eventually she managed to rip off the last layer. "Now look at that... there's my phone!"

Cristina beamed at her mother. "Told ya it has growed durtle legs."

* * *

><p>From this day on, Jane always kept her phone clipped to her belt or put it somewhere her daughter definitely couldn't reach it (which was easier said than done, considering that Cristina was quite tall for her age). She also had a serious conversation with her brother about gifts he could and could not give to his niece.<p>

END

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Just in case you're wondering - I named Jane's daughter Cristina because it's Italian (I think) and I kinda like the name, and Michelle for Angela Michelle 'Angie' Harmon (thank you Wikipedia :)


	10. Self-Defense Against Phones

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**Self-Defense Against Phones**

**Rating: **T (mainly for language)

**Summary: **Title is a reference to Monty Python's Self-Defence Against Fruit sketch. The story itself was inspired by 'meow', who read 'The Story of well, sex' by tika12001 and then wrote this review:

_Do you take prompts from guest reviewers, too? Cause I've got one: Maura asks Jane to teach her some self-defence techniques (Jane should know a thing or two about that; she's a cop, after all), they end up on the floor with one of them on her back and the other straddling her, and... well, I'm sure you can take it from there ;)_

This story is my non-smutty take on meow's prompt. Maybe I'll write an M-rated version as well (not sure yet, so for now, you'll have to make do with the T-rated one :)

Long(ish) chapter alert.

* * *

><p>"Hey Maur, what day is it?"<p>

"Le Quatorze Juillet."

"Le what?"

"July 14. National holiday of France."

"Really? I could've sworn it was the first of April, 'cause there's no way this article isn't a hoax." I lowered my newspaper a bit and pointed to the article in question. It was about some guy in Quincy who had robbed a bank, tried to run away with the money, but had been stopped by a flying cell phone hitting him in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious. "Please tell me that's scientifically impossible."

Maura's hazel eyes skimmed over the text as she took a sip from her fancy organic coffee. "It's very unlikely, but not impossible. If that phone was thrown with enough force and hit the bank robber's head in just the right area..."

"So you think BPD should start teachin' us about self-defense against phones? Y'know, just in case Cell Phone Guy comes to Boston one day to try and knock out some more bank robbers, but accidentally hits a cop instead?"

"I don't think that's necessary. Besides, I'm not sure if there are any self-defense techniques that work against flying cell phones." Maura frowned like she often did when she didn't know something. "But maybe you could teach me a few things about self-defense? Against people, not cell phones."

_Captain Obvious, Doc. _"What makes you think I know stuff about self-defense?"

"Uhm... the fact that you're a cop?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Tooshie."

"_Touché,_" Maura corrected me. "From the French verb, toucher, which means to touch. The way you pronounced the word, it's a slang expression for gluteus maximus."

My eyes rolled upwards almost of their own volition. "Enough with the French stuff already! Why d'you want me to teach you about self-defense?"

"Well, I hope I'll never have to use my skills for real, but I'd just feel safer if I knew what to do in certain situations. Please?"

"... Fine. My place, tonight, after work?" _Let's hope we get home at a decent hour, 'cause with our jobs, you can never be sure._

"Yes to the time, but how about we do this at my house? There's some leftover non-alcoholic beer in the fridge, and a yoga room with a padded floor, so we won't hurt ourselves during my lesson."

"Sounds good." I took a sip from my tea and forced myself to swallow the pale greenish liquid. I'd very much have preferred coffee, but Maura had made it very clear that I wasn't allowed to drink anything alcoholic and/or caffeinated while pregnant. _Fuck you, Casey, _I thought. _This is so unfair - in a few months, I'll have gained about 30 pounds and waddle around like a fat penguin, and he just got to walk away like nothing had happened. Maybe I should start battin' for the other team... I'd probably have to deal with a lot of gossip and dumb remarks, but at least another woman wouldn't be able to get me pregnant again._

"Jane?"

"Huh?"

"Your phone's ringing."

"Oh, thanks." I took the call. "Rizzoli... Okay, Maura and I'll be there in a few."

* * *

><p><span>Saturday afternoon<span>

When we finally got home on Thursday night (more like Friday morning), both Maura and I were too tired to do anything but sleep. Saturday morning we spent running errands, but the afternoon found us in Maura's yoga room, both of us dressed in workout attire - me, a BPD Athletics T-shirt and the first pair of sweatpants I'd found in my closet, and Maura, some yoga capris and an old Red Sox tank top, which I recognized as my own. "You like wearing my clothes, huh?" I teased her, only to choke on saliva when her hands instantly went to the hem of the garment. "Maura!"

She rushed over to me, concern evident in her eyes as she went into Dr Isles mode. "Jane, are you alright? I thought you wanted your tank top back..."

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't expect you to start strippin' in front of me before we'd even been on a first date." Trying not to make a face at my bad joke, I quickly changed topic: "Uh, yeah, self-defense. Let's start with something easy, okay?"

"Yes please."

"Okay, uhm..." I stepped forward, reaching for Maura's wrist in the process. "Pretend you're at a bar or something, and there's this guy who grabs your wrist and tries to drag you outside. What do you do?"

Maura tried to yank her wrist out of my grip, but I held on. "Try again."

She did. "Please let me go."

"Sorry Maur, but this guy really wants to take you home, whether you want it or not." _And I can't really blame him, Maura Isles is sexy as he... umph!_

* * *

><p>Next thing I knew, Maura was standing two feet away from me, and my fingers were no longer around her wrist. I blinked a few times, frowned, and cleared my throat. "Wait a sec... How did you do that?"<p>

"I distracted you, hoping it would make you loosen your grip so that I could get free." Her grin was entirely too smug for my liking. "It worked."

"Clearly," I grumbled half to myself, trying **not** to think about the fact that my female and, as far as I knew, 100% straight best friend had just kissed me. _Self-defense lesson, Rizzoli. Focus. _"Well, that was a nice move, Maur, but let's say the guy's got really bad breath or something and you absolutely don't wanna kiss him."

She tilted her head, waiting for me to continue.

"In that case, you could distract him by slapping him, kicking his shin, or kneeing him in the balls." I took half a step back. "It'd be nice if you didn't demonstrate those things on me, though."

"Don't worry, I'd never put my knee, or any part of my body, anywhere near your genital area..." Maura stepped closer to me, standing on her tiptoes so that she could whisper into my ear. "...unless you wanted me to."

"WHAT?! Maura, what the hell is wrong with you? I thought _**I**_ was supposed to be the sex-crazed hormonal person here..."

She backed off, holding up her hands in the universal gesture of surrender. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate of me. Uhm, do you want me to leave?"

Taking a deep breath, I forced my racing heart to calm down a little. "Nah, it's fine. I promised to teach you about self-defense, and I always keep my promises. Let's move on to the next lesson, shall we?"

* * *

><p>Two hours later, I'd shown Maura everything I knew about self-defense, except one thing. I just didn't know how to bring up this particular topic, but Maura took the job away from me: Laying down on her back, she pulled me down with her so that I landed kneeling between her legs, with my hands on either side of her shoulders. "Uhm..."<p>

"Jane, I certainly hope I'll never end up in a position like this, but I do want to know how to get out of it."

"What, you don't like havin' me on top of you?" I joked, trying to diffuse this weird kind of tension between us. Maura shook her head no: "With you, I don't mind. But if it was that fictional guy from the bar trying to rape me..."

"Alright, alright, I get it." I rolled over onto my back, spreading my legs a bit and motioning for her to get in between them. "I'll show you what to do, and then you can try it on me."

She nodded once, teeth nibbling her lower lip in nervousness. Forcing myself to look into her eyes rather than down the neck of her (my) tank top, I grabbed both her wrists this time. Maura's eyebrow arched up as if to say, 'How is this going to help you in this situation?'

In response, I let go of her wrists and pushed against her right shoulder. To keep from falling over, she instinctively braced her weight with her right hand. "Oh, that's why you grabbed my wrists."

"Yep." I re-established my grip before explaining and demonstrating the next step: "Okay, now you sort of twist onto your right side, put your left foot against the guy's left thigh right above his knee, and-"

* * *

><p>Maura made a small 'Oomph' noise as she rolled off of me, my grip on her wrists preventing her from bracing herself like she'd done earlier. "Wow. Uhm, what would I do after this? In a real situation, I mean?"<p>

"Get up from the ground, run away as fast as you can, and call the cops."

"Okay. Can I try it now?"

"Sure." Once again, I kneeled in between her spread legs. I felt Maura grab my wrists, a kick against my left thigh, and then my best friend was straddling my thighs and smirking down at me like the cat that ate the canary (the canary being me, obviously). "How do you like this position, Detective?"

"Well..." I reached for Maura's wrists and bent my knees, my feet planted firmly on the floor. It was a bit of a struggle, but eventually I managed to buck and twist her off of my body, giving me the opportunity to straddle her again. "I think I like this position better."

"Oh really?" Her smirk was still the same, but her eyes had changed: There was just a small ring of hazel visible around a huge black pupil. I didn't have time to wonder if this was caused by the low lighting or something else before Maura used my own trick on me, leant down, and kissed the grin off my face. When oxygen became a necessity, we briefly broke apart to gasp for air, looked at each other, and dove right in for more.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Please leave a review on the way out. *runs and hides*


	11. Nomen est Omen

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**Nomen est Omen**

**Rating: **K (harmless)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Rizzoli & Isles or the organisation known as PFLAG.

**Summary: **This story consists of a phonecall (Part One), a conversation at the Dirty Robber (Part Two), and another phonecall featuring implied Rizzles (Part Three).

**A/N  
><strong>- The title is a Latin saying that applies to people whose names really fit them. For example, in "Between Courses" by nicolaruth27 (go read it - when you're done with my story! :), Angela sets her daughter up with a bald guy named Niccolo Baldi.

- The person named Carla in Part One is Angela Rizzoli's BFF, the infamous Carla Talucci.

- "Come stai" is Italian for "How are you" (at least that's what google translator says :)

* * *

><p><span>Part One<span>

*ring ring*

"Hello?"

"Angela, it's me."

"Carla! Come stai?"

"Fine, thanks. You?"

"I've been worse... Guess what I heard at the café today?"

"..."

"Janie's colleague, Detective Crowe, is gonna spend a month in New York and some NYPD Detective's comin' to Boston at the same time."

"You mean, like a student exchange?"

"More like a cop exchange, but yeah."

"Wow, that's... Yes Ricky, Nonna'll be there in a second... Sorry, I'm babysittin' my grandson. He's a real sweetheart most of the time, but he's just hit the 'Terrible Two' stage... You're gonna tell me about that Yankee cop when he gets there, right?"

"Of course. Bye!"

"Bye."

* * *

><p><span>Part Two<span>

"So, what's **your **full name?" Frankie asked his temporary colleague from New York.

"Pete Gillespie. No middle name."

Korsak downed the remains of his second beer.

"Fine, it's Peter, but honestly, everyone calls me Pete."

Jane raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing him. Gillespie squirmed in his seat, not used to sitting on this side of the 'interrogation table'. "Promise not to laugh?"

"We won't. Now spill."

The chubby redhead let out a small sigh. "Peter Francis Leon Andrew Gillespie. And yes, I'm aware those are perfectly normal names - it's the combination of them that's bad."

"I don't understand," Korsak announced, frowning.

"Just look at the first letters, Sergeant."

"P-F-L-A-G?"

"Yeah."

"So?"

"There's an organization called PFLAG," Frankie tried to help his older colleague. "Parents and friends of lesbians and gays, or somethin'."

"Parents, Friends and Family of Lesbians and Gays," Maura corrected him. "Although nowadays, the usually go by just their acronym to make it clear that they also support other groups of non-heterosexual people, not just lesbians and gays."

_Better than Google. And she's way prettier than my computer screen... wait, what? _"So, the thing with your middle names... did your parents choose them on purpose or was it just a coincidence?"

"Actually, it was a small act of revenge. You see, my father cheated on my Ma when she was preggers with me. She left him and moved in with Amy, her best friend from high school."

"And...?"

"My Ma was the one who decided on my names - Peter 'cause she liked the name, Francis for my grandpa and so on -, but it was Amy's idea to arrange them in a way that'd most certainly annoy the hell outta my Dad."

"Why's that?"

"He's more homophobic than three Republicans combined... Uhm, no offense."

"None taken. Do your Ma and Amy still live together?"

"Yep. They just celebrated their second wedding anniversary."

"Really? That's great!"

"Great enough to deserve another round of beers?" Frankie teased his sister.

"Only if you pay."

"Grrr... Okay."

* * *

><p><span>Part Three<span>

*ring ring*

"Hello?"

"Angela, it's me."

"Oh, hi."

"So, that cop from New York... What's he like?"

Angela chuckled quietly to herself. "I know what you're gettin' at, Carla. He's a nice guy, but definitely no husband material for my daughter."

"Why's that?"

"Well, for starters, he's chubby and almost a foot shorter than Janie."

"Well, if that's the only problem..."

"... and he's a diehard Yankees fan."

"Oh."

"Yeah. But that doesn't matter 'cause Janie's already found someone."

"Really? You're kiddin' me, right?"

"No, it's true. I couldn't believe it myself at first - okay, guess it wasn't that big of a surprise. They've been friends for several years and are really close, it was just a matter of time till they'd cross the line between friendship and somethin' more."

"So, he's a cop as well?"

"Who?"

"Your future son-in-law, of course. You said Jane and he'd been friends for some time, so I figured they met at work."

"They did, but sh... he's a doctor, not a cop."

"Phew, thank God."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, most doctors earn a lot more than the average cop, so if Jane stays at home with the kids, they'll still have enough money to live on."

"Woah, not so fast - I'm not sure if they even wanna get married, or have kids, for that matter. I know for a fact, though, that Janie won't quit her job unless she absolutely had to."

"Huh... So, is there a chance I'm gonna meet Jane's new boyfriend anytime soon?"

"Probably not, they spend so much time workin', even on the weekends."

"Aww, that's a pity."

"Yeah... But there should be some pictures of them on the Internet - they're the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, after all." Angela quickly ended the call; she knew from experience how Carla Talucci reacted to shocking news (with an incredibly loud and shrill "AAAARGH!") and really didn't want her eardrum to burst.

END

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **So... yeah. *shrugs* Leave a review? :)


	12. No Beer on Hawaii

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**No Beer on Hawaii**

**Rating:** K+

**Disclaimer: **Rizzoli & Isles belong to Tess Gerritsen and the people at TNT. The song I used in this chapter belongs to the guy who first sang it. (BTW, you can listen to it on Youtube: watch?v=EL-nTBiwdiE)

**Summary: **Established Rizzles - Jane and Maura have been engaged for almost a year, but Jane seems afraid to take the last step, so Maura decides to give her a little push.

**Warning: **Fluff :)

* * *

><p>"Honey, I'm hooome!... Oh, hey Maur."<p>

"Hi," I replied, not moving from my position against the wall. Jane frowned in confusion, and I couldn't blame her; when I waited for her in the hallway like this, it usually led to one of us pinning the other against the door and going down- downstairs on her? I'll have to ask Jane about that... Anyway, I remained where I was, leaning against the wall with my phone hidden behind my back. "I told you about Helen, right?"

"Your boarding school classmate who lives in Australia now?" Jane kicked off her boots before placing her gun and badge in their designated space. "No wait, it was Austria, wasn't it?"

"Liechtenstein, but close enough. So, today I got an e-mail from Helen-"

"Really? From what you've told me, she seemed more like the smoke signal kind of girl."

"Jane..."

"Sorry. Go on."

"Thanks. Like I said, Helen sent me an e-mail, which had a sound file attached to it that I'd like you to listen to." Producing my phone from behind my back, I quickly pulled up the file in question and pressed Play.

* * *

><p>Meine Braut, sie heißt Marianne<br>Wir sind seit 12 Jahren verlobt  
>Sie hätt mich so gern zum Manne<br>Und hat schon mit Klage gedroht

Die Hochzeit wär längst schon gewesen,  
>Wenn die Hochzeitsreise nicht wär<br>Denn sie will nach Hawaii,  
>Ja sie will nach Hawaii<br>Und das fällt mir so unsagbar schwer

Es gibt kein Bier auf Hawaii, es gibt kein Bier  
>Drum fahr ich nicht nach Hawaii, drum bleib ich hier<br>Es ist so heiß auf Hawaii, kein kühler Fleck  
>Und nur vom Hula Hula geht der Durst nicht weg...<p>

* * *

><p>"Okay, I got Hawaii and beer, but what was the rest about?"<p>

"That's a conversation we should sit down for." Pushing away from the wall, I took a step towards Jane and reached for her hand. She allowed me to lead her to the living room, where we both sat down on the couch - Jane, with her feet propped up on the coffee table, and me, sitting with my legs crossed and facing her. Almost automatically, she reached out to tuck an errand strand of hair behind my ear, causing me to smile. "So, what's that song about? Must be pretty serious if you wanted me to sit down for it."

"Well, the song itself is meant to be humorous, but it made me think about a rather serious topic." I became serious again. "You see, the song is about a man who's been engaged to a woman named Marianne for twelve years. He'd have married her a long time ago... if it wasn't for the honeymoon, which Marianne wants to spend on Hawaii. The lyrical I, however, doesn't want that because from what he's heard, it's way too hot on Hawaii and there's no beer."

Jane frowned. "I'm pretty sure that's not true. Sure, if I ever went to Hawaii, I'd stick to cocktails, but technically I **could **order a beer there, right?"

"Yes, but that's not really what the song is about. Psychologically speaking, the lyrical I most likely suffers from commitment phobia - he's very much in love with his fiancée, but afraid to 'take the final step' and make it official. However instead of telling her about his fears, he tries to come up with flimsy excuses such as not liking their honeymoon destination." _Alright, I've said my piece. Now I'll have to wait for Jane to catch on._

The wait wasn't a long one; after just a few beats of silence, Jane took both my hands in hers and made eye contact with me. "Maura, would you mind gettin' married on your birthday?"

* * *

><p>The next morning, I woke up in one of my favorite positions: Jane laying on her side, one leg slightly draped over mine, and me snuggled up against her front, both of our hands intertwined on my naked stomach. "Jane?" I whispered softly, so as not to startle her.<p>

"Yeah?"

"Oh, good, you're awake. Listen, I've been thinking about our wedding..."

"Hm?"

"I think we should get married the day before my birthday, since my birthday is on a Sunday and we'll probably have to go to work the day after that."

"Hm-mh."

"And that way, you won't even have to get me a birthday gift. Finally being able to call you my wife is the best gift I could ask for."

"Awwww..."

Twisting my arm a bit, I poked her in the ribs. "Stop that!"

The only response I received was a brief snort, followed by Jane tightening her hold around me and nuzzling my hair. "Y'know, I've been thinking too. About that song Helen sent you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. How does it end? Like, does the guy agree to go to Hawaii in the end, do they spend their honeymoon somewhere else, or do they not get married at all?"

"I'm afraid I don't know that, since the song has an open end."

"Huh... But, hey, at least **we** are getting married! That's the most important thing, right?"

I stretched as best as I could, considering that Jane was still holding me tight. "Hmmmm..."

"Really? You're allowed to do that, but I'm not?" Most likely pouting a little, Jane got out of bed, leaving a grinning me behind. _I'll have to make sure to thank Helen for sending me that song. Preferably before Jane and I start the whole wedding preparation business._

END

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **All the shops in my area are closed already, but maybe I can go grocery shopping tomorrow and buy y'all some peanut butter to go with all the fluff from this chapter :)


	13. Rose Tattoo

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**Rose Tattoo**

**Rating: **T for a bit of language.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Rizzoli & Isles or the Dropkick Murphys.

**Summary: **Established Rizzles - Maura remembers the night when she and Jane became more than just friends.

* * *

><p>"Jane?"<p>

"Hmph?"

"Oh great, you're awake - today's a very special day, after all, and I don't want to waste it sleeping."

"Hmphwhat?"

"It's our anniversary, remember?"

Dark brown eyes popped open: "Did you say anniversary?"

"I did. 365 days ago, we crossed the line between friendship and something more... please don't tell me you've forgotten about that?"

"Nah, it's just a bit early in the morning and my brain's still asleep. Maybe you can help it a bit by tellin' me what happened last year?"

"If you think that's going to help..." Snuggling closer to Jane, I proceeded to relive the events of that night.

* * *

><p><span>One year before<span>

Returning from karaoke night at the Dirty Robber, we had ordered pizza and sat down on the couch to eat it - something I never would have done before knowing Jane. When the pizza box was empty, we sat in companionable silence for a minute before Jane voiced a thought that was going through her head: "Y'know, I never understood what's so great about tattoos."

"Huh?... Oh, because of the song you performed tonight."

"Yeah. I mean, getting a tattoo hurts like hell, and getting it removed hurts even more, so why do people do stuff like that?"

"Why, Detective, are you talking from experience?"

"Me? Hell no! My parents would've died from shock if I'd come home with a tattoo, or a piercing, for that matter. But I never wanted one anyway."

"Why's that?"

She shrugged. "Couldn't think of an image I'd like, oh and did I mention getting a tattoo hurts like hell?"

"Well, the level of pain depends on the sensitivity of the affected area. I agree that the idea of getting a tattoo-" I searched for an example- "on your inner thigh does sound quite painful, but in areas with fewer nerve endings such as the outside of your upper arm, it shouldn't be too bad."

"Is that your medical opinion, Dr Isles, or are you talking from experience?" Jane threw my own words back at me with a smirk.

"Both."

She almost spat out her beer. "What?!"

"It's my opinion as a doctor, and I know from experience that getting a tattoo in the area where mine is located didn't hurt too much."

"And... what area is that, exactly? 'Cause I've seen you naked before, during the meningitis case and stuff, and I never noticed any tattoos on your body."

"Well, it's really small and thus a bit hard to find... Would you like to see it now?"

Jane was visibly nervous, but eventually nodded her head, so I got up and untied the drawstring on my pants. Pushing them down to just below my backside, I looked at Jane over my shoulder. "Can you see it?"

"Uhm, no?... Unless you're talking about that ink blob on your right ass cheek."

"It's not a blob, it's a rose," I corrected her, unable to suppress a shudder when she traced her finger over it.

"A rose?"

"Yes, just like in the song."

"Dr Isles has a rose tattoo on her ass." Shaking her head, Jane ran her finger over it again. "Where did you get it?"

Twisting my neck to be able to look at Jane was becoming a bit uncomfortable, so I turned around to face her. "Growing up, I was a really 'good kid' who got straight A's and never caused her parents any trouble. However when I hit puberty, the hormones flooding my mind and body made even me feel a bit more... rebellious."

"Ooohhh, this should be good..."

"Well, my good grades remained the same, but I did take part in several wet t-shirt contests-"

"You're kidding."

"No I'm not, I still have pictures of it somewhere in my basement. Anyway, one day I decided to be a really 'bad girl' and get a tattoo. Granted, it was just a small one and in a place people normally didn't see, but it still made me feel badass."

"What did your parents say about it?"

"I never told them."

"Huh."

A moment of silence passed.

"Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"Your hands are still on my backside."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious." She swallowed. "Uhm, what if I don't want to remove them?"

"Well, technically I could write you up for sexual harassment. However-" I took a step back, brought Jane's legs together and straddled them- "I won't do that because I really liked the feeling. In fact, I want you to touch me more, and when you're done with that, I want to do the same to you."

* * *

><p><span>Present time<span>

"And right when I had you down to your ridiculously expensive underwear, my fuckin' crotchblock of a cell phone interrupted us."

"Jane! Language!"

"What? It's true! That was one of those moments where I really hated my mother. Interrupting what would turn out to be the best sex of my life just to ask what I'd like for dessert the next Sunday dinner."

"The best sex of your life, hm?"

Jane poked me in the ribs. "Don't get cocky."

"Fine." Pretending to pout, I pushed my blanket away and sat up. "If you're not in the mood for something cock-y right now, I think I'll just get dressed and leave the strap on right where it is."

Quick as a flash, Jane pounced onto my body and pinned me down against the bed. "Nuh-uh. You're not goin' anywhere until I'm done with you, Doctor Isles."

END

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Before you ask - yes, Maura's tattoo is a reference to NCIS, where Abby talked Kate Todd into getting a tattoo on her butt. I don't think they ever revealed what exactly it was, so that's where the song I was listening to while writing this came into play :)


	14. Jelly Beans

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**Jelly Beans**

**Rating: **K

**A/N: **This is an AU featuring 6-year-old Maura & Jane during their first year at school. It's quite short and way too fluffy for its own good ;)

* * *

><p>"Dashing through the snow<br>In a one horse open sleigh  
>O'er the fields we go<br>Laughing all the way  
>The bells on bob-tail ring<br>They make our spirits bright  
>What fun it is to ride and sing<br>A sleighing song tonight

Everyone! - Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way  
>Oh what fun it is to ride<br>In a one horse open sleigh  
>Hey! Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way<br>Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh!"

* * *

><p>"Okay kids, school's out for Christmas-" The music teacher's next sentence ("Have a merry Christmas and a happy New Year") went almost unheard over the noise of 25 first-year students wanting to get out of the classroom as fast as possible.<p>

Outside the school building, Jane Rizzoli was kicking snow into the air while waiting for her desk neighbor Maura, who would spend the afternoon at the Rizzoli home until her parents returned from work. After what felt like two hours to her (in reality it was just under ten minutes, but Jane Rizzoli was a very impatient little girl), she finally spotted a pair of blonde pigtails and made her way over to them. "Hey."

"Hello Jane. Is your Mom picking us up by car?"

"Yeah, she should be there soon." Jane refused to look at her classmate, instead focusing on kicking more snow into the air.

"Jane, what's wrong?"

Another kick. "Nothin'."

"Did Casey or Joey bully you again?"

"Nope." More snow flew through the air.

"Then what is it?"

"Yesterday I heard my Ma talking to my Pop on the phone. She said she's preg... preggy..."

"Pregnant?"

"Yeah, that's the one. I'm gonna have another little brother or sister." Jane finally looked at the other girl. "I don't want that. I've got Frankie already, I don't want another baby in my family."

"I don't have any brothers or sisters," Maura said half to herself, admiring the way the snow on the ground sparkled in the afternoon sun.

"Well, lucky you. Frankie annoys the hell outta me most of the time."

* * *

><p>Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Angela Rizzoli's car. Once the two girls were seated and buckled up in the backseat, she drove off and looked at her daughter and Maura in the rearview mirror. "So what did you do on your last day at school?"<p>

"Our music teacher made us sing 'Jingle Bells' together in the last period," Jane grumbled. "I almost got kicked out when I started singin' different lyrics."

"Something about jelly beans and skiing," Maura supplied helpfully. "But I didn't understand all of it since the boy on my other side was singing the correct lyrics really loud."

"Dashin' through the snow  
>On a pair of broken skis-"<p>

Angela's eyebrows went up. "Come again?"

"That's the different lyrics. O'er the hills we go,  
>Crashin' into trees<br>The snow is turning red  
>I think I'm nearly dead<br>Now I am in the hospital  
>With stitches in my head<p>

Eatin' jelly beans, jelly beans, jelly beans all day  
>Sugar level's through the roof,<br>They don't know what to say  
>Hey! Jelly beans, jelly beans,<br>I know I'm not okay  
>So I'll keep eatin' jelly beans till my releasement day!"<p>

* * *

><p>Deciding not to comment on this (for now), Angela pointed to the rearview mirror. "You know what that is?"<p>

"Uhm... a mirror?"

"I think your mother's talking about the mistletoe that's hanging from the mirror."

"That's right, sweetie. D'you know what it means?"

"If a boy and a girl meet under a mistletoe, they gotta kiss each other. But Maura and I are both girls, so we don't have to kiss." Jane grinned triumphantly.

"You don't have to, but feel free to do it anyway."

"Eww, no!" Jane wiggled away from Maura as far as her seatbelt would allow, which wasn't very far. "Unless... Maura, d'you wanna kiss?"

"Well, it's tradition and supposed to bring good luck..."

Jane took a deep breath. "Fine." Wiggling back to her previous postion, she turned her head to look at her classmate. "On three? One - two - thr-"

"Awwwww!"

Pulling away from the kiss, Jane glared at the back of the driver's seat. "Really Ma?"

"Sorry. You two just looked so cute, I really wished I'd had a camera to capture the moment."

Jane simply buried her face in her hands and groaned.

END

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Happy [whatever holiday you celebrate in late December - I didn't want anyone to feel left out by just writing 'Merry Christmas']. Oh, and a happy New Year 2015 :)


	15. Scissored to Death

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**Scissored to Death**

**Rating: **T - There's some (well, a lot of) talking about sex, but nothing too graphic, and a few "bad words".

**A/N: **I'm baaack in one piece... well, mostly. I had my wisdom teeth extracted and wasn't allowed to exercise, go in the sun, or basically do anything fun for a week. But, since my dentist didn't say anything about sitting down to write some fanfiction, that's exactly what I did. I hope you like it - I may have overdone it a little with Maura's inability to understand slang expressions and sarcasm.

This story was inspired by Dorothy Snarker's recap of ep. 2x14, which can be found on AfterEllen. It's written in text messages, because Jane had to go into work on Maura's day off.

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><p>M: Jane, may I ask you something?<p>

J: Of course, shoot

M: Someone left a newspaper in the break room yesterday. On the front page there was a picture of the victim from one of our latest cases and the headline "Scissored to Death".

J: Wow, that's a terrible pun.

M: It is? Because I overheard two uniformed officers talking about that headline, and for some reason I didn't understand, they found it hilarious.

J: Well, scissored to death could mean, stabbed dead with a pair of scissors, which is what happened to our vic. But it has another meaning as well.

M: Yes, and what other meaning would that be?

J: It's kinda hard to explain, maybe u can google it?

M: I did. All that came up were instructions on how to trim a poodle, and I don't think that's what the officers were laughing about.

J: Prbly not

M: Jane, please stop writing in "txt" or whatever you call this.

J: Sry ;)

M: Jane...

J: Sorry

M: Apology accepted :). Back to topic, what's the meaning of the verb "scissoring" if it's not referring to a poodle?

J: Ugh, fine  
>J: It's a sex position<br>J: For 2 women

M: I'm afraid I still don't get it.

J: It's when 2 women rub their hoo-hahs together 2 get off

M: What on earth is a "hoo-hah"?

J: Really?

M: Yes, really.

J: *sigh* A pussy, va-jay-jay, female sex, twat, snatch, vagina, got it?

M: Yes, thanks for clearing that up.  
>M: So "scissoring" is a slang term for tribadism? Why didn't you just say that?<p>

J: Cause I've no idea what "tribadism" is?

M: It's when two women rub their sexes together to achieve climax.

J: Oh. Scissoring.

M: Yes.

J: Well, I don't think anyone's ever died from that ;)

M: Agreed. Though one might experience une petite mort while doing it ;-).

J: Hey, I know that one! It means orgasm

M: Yes it does! Très bien, Jane.

J: I hope u didn't just insult me? ;)

M: Of course not, "très bien" translates to "very good."

J: Well in that case, thanks :) Gotta get back 2 work now though. See ya tonight! :)

M: I'm looking forward to it :-).

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><p><strong>AN: **Just a little something my slightly painkiller-addled brain came up with. Leave a review if you like :)


	16. The So-Called Facts of Life

**Random Rizzles Phonecalls**

**The So-Called Facts of Life**

**Rating: **T for **T**alking about Sex, but no actual graphic sex scenes.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Rizzoli & Isles, Jane's cousin, Maura's boarding school roommate, Gr**a**y's Anatomy (the book by Henry Gray), or Gr**e**y's Anatomy (the TV show).

**Summary: **Maura and Jane have a daughter who is in high school and will soon start a sex ed class. This leads to Rizzles reminiscing about their own experiences with that particular subject.

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><p>J: Maur, we have a problem<p>

M: We do?

J: Nikki brought a letter from school that we gotta sign if we wanna allow her 2 attend a sex ed class

M: Well, what's the matter? Nikki is 15 years old, not a little girl anymore. I'm sure she can handle a few pictures of naked people.

J: *sigh* I know that.  
>J: But y would she need a sex ed class, she can just ask u?<br>J: Or we could take her 2 the OBGYN if there's stuff she'd rather not talk about with her parents

M: Jane, I'm sitting in my car now and my phone is almost dead. Let's continue this at home?

J: Ok. Love u :)

M: Love you too :)

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><p>"Did you have a sex ed class at your fancy boarding school?" I asked my wife as we lay in bed later that night.<p>

"Yes we did."

"Did ya like it?"

Maura gave a shrug. "It was alright, if a little boring. We mostly talked about things I'd known since I was eight and looked them up in Gray's Anatomy."

"The TV show?"

"No, the book, Gray's Anatomy with an A. The TV show is spelled with an E. Did you attend a sex ed class in high school, too?"

"Ugh, don't remind me..."

"That bad?"

"Well, the only points I remember are 'Once you start bleeding for a few days each month, you can get pregnant', 'You get pregnant by sleeping with a boy', 'But don't even think of doing that if you're not married to said boy' and 'You may only touch your lady parts to wash them or wipe them after peeing'. It's safe to say they left out quite a few important things, but what would you expect from a school that's run by nuns?"

"How did you find out about the things the nuns didn't tell you?"

"By sneaking into the 'adult section' of our local library - oh don't look so surprised, I do know how to read!"

Laughing, Maura dodged the pillow I'd tried to hit her with. "I know. Please, go on."

"Right. My cousin Natalia, who was already married with kids, told me a few things about pregnancy, childbirth, and contraception - her husband's family wasn't as strict as ours and he'd taught her about condoms and stuff. Of course she made me swear not to tell anyone else about that last part."

"Are you still in touch with her?"

"Yeah, we send each other birthday and Christmas cards every year, and in the time between we sometimes e-mail each other." Rolling over onto my side, I propped my head up on my right hand so that I was able to look at Maura. "But enough about me - tell me something else that happened in your sex ed class?"

Maura seemed to think for a moment before a smile lit up her face: "I can tell you about something that didn't happen in a classroom, but did play a role in my sexual education."

"Yeah...?"

"Well..." With a slight push, she rolled me onto my back, pushed the covers away, and placed her knees either side of my hips. "One day I walked in on my roomate Elodie pleasuring herself. Instead of being embarassed, she let me watch and then proceeded to teach me all about 'les plaisirs de la masturbation'. Would you like me to re-enact that lesson with you?"

For a genius, Maura could ask some really dumb questions sometimes.

END

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><p><strong>AN: **This was inspired by the discussion going on here in Germany about what students of different age groups should or shouldn't learn about their bodies, pregnancy, contraception, STD's and, most controversial, the topic of LGBTIQA folks (hope I got all the letters right). Apparently, some people here believe that telling a kid about gay/bi/trans/non-straight people at school will cause said kid to immediately turn gay/bi/trans/queer themselves...


End file.

Rizzoli & Isles, Friendship, Humor