“Rizzoli & Isles” Subtext Recap (1.08): Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

Welcome! If you’ve come for a serious analysis of plot and in-depth discussion of storyline on Rizzoli & Isles, please turn around and leave. These are not the recaps you’re looking for. Instead, these will be purely subtext recaps. What’s that, you say? You know, subtext. It’s why we’ll watch a three-hour movie about bank robbers just to see the three-second eye flirting between the bank teller and the female lead.

So now that that’s out of the way, let me introduce you to our intrepid heroines. Meet Jane Rizzoli: tough, tomboy Boston Police Department detective and softball enthusiast. Likes: Beer, guns, Maura Isles. Meet Dr. Maura Isles: sophisticated, smart Boston Police Department medical examiner and fashion maven. Likes: Shoes, neurobiology, Jane Rizzoli.

This week Rizzoli’s dreaded nemesis, the imprisoned serial killer Charles Hoyt, is back. We know this because Angie Harmon is having a dream that doesn’t involve Sasha Alexander and baby oil. Instead it’s a nightmare about the creepy guy who looks like The Joker and Skeletor’s illegitimate lovechild. I’d also like to note that Jane sleeps in a tank top and underwear. Raise your hand if that’s what you sleep in, too, lesbians.

Jane goes outside after her nightmare. Um, when I’ve just had a super scary dream about a man who is hell bent on killing me, the first thing I do, too, is leave the safety of my home for a dark city street. She finds a lit flare but more important she almost shoots a cat. If she had, that would be minus 500 Lesbian Points. Luckily, she only ends up looks hot pointing her gun. Lady cop forearms – yum.

At yet another grisly crime scene, Maura looks up from yet another slit throat and squints with concern at Jane. “You have dark circles under your eyes. Are you not sleeping again?” she asks like your girlfriend did this morning when you come to breakfast after similar sleeplessness.

Jane deflects with a joke. And Maura says something about how her nightmares involves showing up to a biochemistry exam she hasn’t studied for. Jane gives Maura that look you give your girlfriend when she says something so geeky you can’t decide if you want to roll your eyes or kiss her. You always opt for both; if only Jane would, too.

More reasons to kiss Maura, she can’t stop “that word thing” where she tells Jane the history of terms like “karma.” Jane gives her another look like, “you dork,” which secretly means “later do that word thing with all the body parts of yours I plan to see naked.” Girls who practice etymology in bed are sexy.

Jane’s little brother Frankie (who I always think of as Fred Savage’s hunky little brother) arrives and breaks the mood. He’s worried about their parents but Jane is more interested in flirting with the waitress. The gal can’t help it. The waitress inexplicably wants to flirt with Frankie.

In a brilliant bit of juxtaposition, we next see Maura holding a cold heart. Seriously, who wouldn’t want to flirt with Angie Harmon?

When Maura realizes the dead body in question is the work of Hoyt, the first thing she says is “I have to find Jane.” So, naturally, next we see her on Jane’s couch. Maura gives Jane every variation on the concerned girlfriend face as they discuss why her life is in mortal danger. Maura calls to get police protection so Jane can finally sleep and get rid of those dark circles. But Jane won’t sleep until the armed cavalry arrives.

Maura says she can handle Jane’s gun and every gay gal in the audiences wishes so much that was a euphemism. No, she means her actual gun. Except while Maura knows its magazine capacity, trigger pull weight and line of sight, she has never actually shot a gun. So Jane shows her how to hold her gun. Still not a euphemism, still so wish it was.

So we’re going to just pretend it is. Maura tells Jane she is a fast learner. I bet she is, dirty girl. Jane empties her chamber. Sheesh, that was fast. She slowly hands it over as Maura who grips it ever so gently. Jane tells her exactly where to wrap her left hand. Hey, you need to be really specific with first timers. And then she explains the delicate yet essential mechanics of the push and pull. Oh, if I had a dime for every time a gal pulled when she should have pushed.

Maura is eager, tentative and dying to please. Jane obliges, telling her “You look good.” Remember ladies, proper encouragement is key. Praise is essential in the learning process. I’d also like to note that throughout the scene the gun has been uncocked, making this (as my friend The Linster astutely put it) the ultimate “uncock tease.” Yep, just how lesbians like it.

Jane finally decides Maura knows enough to handle the loaded gun on her own, but says she is only letting her “because I’m tired.” Just like a butch. And just like a femme, Maura promptly asks her is she looks “badass.” Admittedly, she kind of does. Wait, are we sure this whole gun thing wasn’t a euphemism?

The next morning, Maura scolds Jane’s nosy detective partners for being too loud and waking the woman she loves from much needed sleep. Do not make the fierce woman in heels slap a bitch, OK? Back at the office, Maura complains to Jane about still being in the same wrinkled dress as the day before. That’s what you get when you spend the night learning how to hold your girlfriend’s piece, honey.

Then the boring, rumpled FBI dude shows up. Maura pretends to encourage Jane to have a private moment with him. Hello, total beard. But she purposely interrupts them with a text in the middle of their conversation to get them to a non-romantic autopsy. Saved by the dead body. Maura shoots the boring FBI dude a glare that says, “Hand off my woman or it’ll be you on this slab.”

Further proof you don’t mess with Dr. Isles’ woman, she goes to interview Hoyt face-to-face. She will cut you. Hoyt says he isn’t going to kill Jane until he can do it with his own hands. And that he won’t kill Maura because they are alike. Now she is really, really, going to cut you, dude.

Jane watches the footage of Hoyt threatening her life, while Maura explains something about his facial muscles and muscle symmetry. Jane snaps at her because who wants to hear about facial muscles and muscle symmetry at a time like this, but boring FBI dude tells her she is being rude to Maura. Hey, he does serve a purpose. So she apologizes for being a “jerk.” She then asks the beard to leave the room. Nothing says I’m sorry like make-up sex. What? You know it’s true.

Maura tells Jane how she was a “weird kid,’ growing up and received a lot of benign neglect from her wealthy parents. She sent away for her own boarding school brochure when she was 10 and “was really lost.” Awww, deep confessional processing. This is so gay.

Jane takes her hands, reassures her and says “Man, we’re a pair.” Yes, ladies, you really are.

Back in Hoyt’s cell, Jane confronts him. It’s about one of the victims still being alive, but subconsciously I think she’s mad that he made Maura feel bad about herself. Don’t make Rizzoli angry, you wouldn’t like her when she’s angry. Actually, you might like her. Angie looks good angry. And her voice gets even more deep and gravely. OK, scratch my previous statement. Always make Rizzoli angry.

Back at her apartment, a woman who is not Maura is cooking Jane dinner. It’s the waitress from the diner who is now dating Jane’s little brother. Jane tastes her pasta sauce and tells her if it doesn’t work out with Frankie she can always come over and cook for her anytime. Hey now, flirting in the diner is one thing. Telling a girl she can come over anytime to “cook” is entirely another. I’m telling Maura.

But there’s no need to worry because Frankie has terrible taste in women and the nice waitress lady turns out to be Hoyt’s homicidal kidnap victim/stalking accomplice/Stockholm Syndrome sufferer. She tells Jane to put on some handcuffs. OK, so maybe we need to worry again because this girl clearly already knows how to handle a gun. No euphemism required.

A struggle ensues, Frankie shoots her (that’s what you get for being more interested in his sister than him, I guess). And then all of a sudden Jane is out to dinner with boring FBI dude. Boo! Where is Maura? Luckily, Jane gives him the old “It’s not you, it’s me speech.” More precisely, she tells him “I’m not ready for someone like you.” This is 100 percent accurate if you replace “ready” with “looking.” As in, I’m not looking for a man, period. They kiss, but you know, everyone goes through an experimental phase.