Disclaimer: Okay, I admit it. I hate Devan. And I want Jordan and Woody to be together. Soon. And I don't own anything to do with Crossing Jordan....although I wish I did. Because if I did, they'd already be together. And Devan would have been long gone. And Jordan's hair would still be wavy. And Woody would get a decent hair cut. And Bug and Lily would be together. And Nigel Townsend would be mine. And as for Garrett...well, look for him in my next story.

Chapter One

First it started with them flirting...giggling together...over coffee...over cases...then finally over drinks in the evening. Neither one thought it would go any further than a friendship. Until one night, he walked her out to her car after a long night together in autopsy. They were deeply involved in the case. He had opened her car door for her. She had turned to look up at him. She was a petite woman. Her head barely hit the top of his shoulder. She looked like she needed protecting, but looks could be deceiving. She was more than capable of handling herself. But again, looks were deceiving.

She had looked up at him, her eyes widening slightly, and all Woody knew was that he wanted to kiss her...more than anything. So without any hesitation, without a second thought, he had held her blue-eyed gaze for a half a second longer, then crashed his lips down on hers.

And felt her respond...her arms went around her neck and her mouth opened for him. He held her there for a long moment, before breaking away and murmuring good-night and shutting the car door. He watched her drive out of the garage and down the street. He meant to make his way back up to his office and finish some paperwork.

But when he turned around, he found himself staring into a pair of whiskey-colored eyes. Eyes that were fighting back anger...hurt....trying to remain neutral.

"Evening, Woody," was all she would say as she brushed passed him to go into her office to start her double shift.

"Jordan, wait...." He had called out. But to no avail. She entered the stairwell, slammed the door shut and ran up the six flights of stairs to her office.

It was over...the three and a half years he had fought to gain her affections, her love, was over...gone in less than a minute. Gone in a kiss that never should have happened to begin with...

Jordan fought back her tears as she entered her office, but was unsuccessful. Trying her best to stifle back the sobs that were threatening to shake her entire being to the core, she shut the door and leaned against it. How did this happen? And why did she let it? Blindly she made her way to her couch and huddled in the corner. Woody was hers, wasn't he? Hadn't he said as much? What had gone wrong?

"Jor, I need you in autopsy one...hey, are you okay?" Nigel asked from the doorway, after he had knocked for a second and then entered without her permission.

Numbly, Jordan nodded. "Yeah...just a bad evening. Give me a minute, will you?"

Nigel nodded and backed out of the door. A few minutes later Jordan joined him in the autopsy room, as if nothing had happened. He looked at her quizzically, but her face gave no indication of anything at all. He chalked it up to her monthly and went back to work.

It wasn't until a day or two afterwards that he began to put two and two together. And came up with five. He had stopped in at the Pogue one evening to see Jordan and perhaps talk to her and Woody about a case they were working on together. Sometimes after a couple of beers, your thoughts begin to loosen and you can actually see more clearly. Especially if there's a couple of other people on the case around who have also had a couple of beers. He entered the bar, expecting to see Jordan behind it and Woody on his usual seat. Jordan was there, but no Woody.

"Jordan, love, a pint, please?" he asked.

She filled his mug with the darkest ale she had and set it in front of him. "How's it going, Nige?"

"Good, actually. Say, I was wanting to pick your's and Woody's brain about this Murris case? Is Woodrow around?"

Jordan had turned her back to him quickly and said rather sharply, "No. He's not."

"Is he coming in?"

"I have no idea, Nigel. He doesn't tell me much of anything anymore." She had turned back around to wipe down the area where two people had left. If Nigel didn't know better, he could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes.

"Oh," had been his only reply. He watched her while he finished his beer. Somehow, tonight wasn't the best time to talk about the Murris case. His friend was in pain. And it had something to do with Woody. Why she didn't give into her feelings and just go to bed with the boy, he had no clue. It would relieve a lot of sexual tension...and honestly be a relief to everyone. But it was Jordan. And she never did things the easy way. "Say, love, what about a game of pool after you close?"

Jordan nodded. "Sure...can you wait that long?"

"For you, I'll wait all night."

A couple of hours later, she was racking the balls up and he was chalking up his cue. They made small talk until about half way through the game. Finally, getting up his courage, he asked, "What gives with you and Woodrow?"

"Nothing."

"Jordan...I know better. You've fought."

"No. Honestly. We haven't."

"Jordan..."

"No. Nigel. We haven't. We've both just moved on. We've decided we're not right for each other."

He absorbed this piece of information. "So you're not even friends now?"

"I guess...maybe....I don't know. You'd have to ask him."

"Can you two work together?"

"Sure. But I'd prefer not to." And that was all she wanted to say about Woody. Nigel had never known her to be so cryptic about anything, but he pushed his point a bit further.

"Do you know where he's at?"

"I have no clue. But I've heard great things about that new pub that opened down the street from the police department."

Nigel took the hint. The next night he persuaded Bug to go with him to the new pub. "Please Bug," he had begged, "It's important."

"What's so important about a new pub? There's a new pub opening in Boston everyday. And besides, I thought you were loyal to the Pogue."

"I am. But this has to do with Jordan. Please. Just come with me. This one time, Buggles."

Bug finally agreed. Around nine that night Bug and Nigel entered the new pub, O'Malleys. And Nigel saw what Jordan was talking about. There on barstools, sitting side by side, too close and nearly locked at the lip were Devan and Woody.

"So this was what Jordan was bloody nearly crying over," Nigel said under his breath to Bug.

"Sweet Mary in the manger, does he know what the hell he is doing?" Bug asked.

"I don't know, but I do know if I don't get out of here, I will hurt him," said Nigel. Both men walked out of the pub, hands thrust deeply in their pockets.

"The bad thing is that I really liked Woody. He seemed like a decent guy," said Bug.

"Yeah," was all Nigel would reply.

"I mean...in one way you can hardly blame him. He's waited around on Jordan forever. And Devan is hot...you gotta admit that."

"Yeah."

"Is that all you can say?"

"No...but if I start now, I may go back in there and say a few things to a few people I may regret. See you tomorrow Bug." Nigel got on his motorcycle and rode home, his head too full of thoughts. Jordan. Woody. And damned Devan. Pushy broad. He sighed. In a way, Bug was right. Jordan had made Woody wait a long time....but Jordan had been dealing with more than her fair share of demons. And she was just beginning to turn around when Woody goes and does this...Of course he wasn't all to blame. Devan had been in the morgue long enough to know that Woody's affection for Jordan went back several years. She could have said no. She should have said no.

Arriving at his flat, he took off his helmet and went inside. Stretching out his lanky form on the bed, he knew. He knew why Jordan had nearly been in tears the other day. He knew now why she reacted so sharply to Woody's name. He knew why she had been avoiding Woody's homicide calls and been working the night shift to avoid Devan.

His girl was hurt...to the quick...Once again, Jordan was bruised and battered. And once again, it was partly her fault. He sighed again. When was she ever going to learn?