Disclaimer: I don't own a thing connected to Crossing Jordan. If I did, do you think I'd still be teaching school? Don't think so.

And how long is it until Season Five starts?

Of all the stories I write, the ones that bring the most response are the ones that are set in the future. After a flurry of requests for another one set ahead in time, I've complied. But this one is a little different. It's set quite a bit ahead in time…more than fifteen years.

Enjoy…I hope.

Chapter One

Boston Is Still Home

The sun glinting off the wings of the airplane made him squint as he looked out the window to the landscape below. Sandy shores and green meadows. The blue-gray surface of the Atlantic Ocean…a sharp contrast to the clearer blue of the Pacific Ocean that he had seen daily for the past sixteen years. The cold Atlantic…the Boston Harbor. Funny, when he had flown out of Massachusetts years ago, he never thought he would return. Ever.

Then a phone call to his San Diego office brought him back home. Home. Despite the decade plus he had spent in California, in his mind he still called Boston home. Maybe because that was the first place he ever felt he belonged. As a matter of fact, when anyone in his field office asked where he was from, he responded, "Boston."

And their response was generally the same. "Funny. You don't sound like you're from Boston." Then would give them his best dimpled grin and tell them he had been in California a long time.

But a call from the Boston Police Department had brought him back. There was a position open…he would be over the detectives…particularly the homicide detectives. Was he interested?

He had thought long and hard. As a matter of fact, he had spent a weekend walking the California beach and thinking about it. San Diego had been good to him. Working with Sunny D had been a dream come true. But he was older now. Forty-eight to be exact. His hair was graying, but thank God at least it was still there. His eyes were just as blue and his dimples still flashed when he smiled just right.

He was single, no children, completely unattached, and longing for a slower life. Boston offered that. It might also offer the renewing of old friendships. While he hadn't exactly gone out of his way to keep in touch with co-workers and friends, he still occasionally heard from them and saw a few at conferences. Those folks…Winslow, Framus, Santana, Bug, Nigel, Garret, Sydney…had seemed more like family than just friends. A part of him longed for that feeling again. He had learned that people in Sunny D were too transient … too focused only on solving the cases … to be anything more than co-workers.

So it really wasn't as big a decision as everyone made it out to be. He resigned his post in San Diego, giving them a month's notice. Sold his house. Had his household goods loaded on a delivery truck that would meet him in Boston, and flew away from the Pacific shore back to the snowy arms of a city he thought he would embrace again.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Framus had asked him over the phone.

"Hell, no. I'm still flying by the seat of my pants," he replied.

"I guess age hasn't taught you a damn thing…."

"Not a thing." He had chuckled along with the female detective.

"Seriously, Hoyt…it's not the same here…."

"I don't expect it to be."

"Good. Just….be prepared. Okay?"

He had thought that last comment odd. "Sure….I'm coming with no preconceived ideas or expectations."

There had been silence from Roz for a moment. "I'm looking forward working with you again."

"Likewise…"

And from what he understood, Jordan was still in Boston, too. Chief ME now that Garret had retired. That was a definite attraction. Not that he expected things to be the same between them. Sixteen years was a long time. Her last name wasn't even Cavanaugh any longer. She had married. She may still even be married….he would find out soon enough.

The seatbelt sign flashed on overhead. He buckled and prepared to land.

"Morning, Love," greeted Nigel as Jordan stepped off the elevator.

"Morning to you, too. Coffee on?"

"Indeed. Good weekend?"

"Busy…"

"Well, idle minds are the devil's workshop, you know…"

"I'd give anything to find out. I haven't had idle time…in God knows when."

"Not for the last seventeen or so years?"

Jordan grinned. "Pretty much."

"So how did young William do at the soccer game?"

"Scored two goals, banged up his knee, and had his heart broken by one of the cheerleaders who said she couldn't go out with him on Saturday night."

Nigel grinned. "A young lady that wouldn't go out with our young Will?"

"I know…a first. I think she had some sort of family thing going on…Will was disappointed."

"And you gave him the whole 'family-before-friends' lecture, all the time thinking she wasn't good enough for your baby anyway, right?"

Jordan felt the corners of her mouth kicking up again. "You know me too well, Nige. Tell everyone I need them at the morning meeting in fifteen minutes."

Nigel nodded and went to round up the rest of the staff. Jordan unlocked her office, hung up her coat and began putting up her things. As she opened her brief case to take out some files, her teenage son's picture sitting on her desk caught her eye. William Maxwell Turner. Her baby, her young man, her God-send….her reason she got up every morning and kept going … Will was all that and more. Since Jason had been killed in the Iraqi War and her father had passed away, Will was the only immediate family she had left that she was directly related to. She had always considered her morgue co-workers more like family than employees…but Will was her only blood-kin. A tall young man, slender, with above average intelligence, he had been Jordan's salvation after losing the two other men in her life.

She had met Jason at a party…nearly fifteen years ago. A quiet man, Jordan had found in him the stability she needed in her life. They had begun dating…and six months afterwards, had married, much to the shock and surprise of family and friends. They had slipped away for the weekend, under the pretext of having some "alone" time together.

Instead, she had returned as Mrs. Jordan C. Turner…and Jason had been shipped back to Iraqi. Only she and Jason knew he had his orders to leave…that was the reason they had gone ahead and gotten married. Jason wanted her as his wife when he returned.

Only he didn't come back…at least not alive. His remains had been returned to her with full military honors almost a year later. It was tough being a war widow. It was even tougher being a single mom.

But with Max's assistance, along with Garret's and everyone else's help at the morgue, she had done it. William never lacked for male influence. Before Max had passed away seven years ago with a heart attack, he had played the father/grandfather role with great affection. Since that time, Garret, Nigel, Bug, Sydney, and a few male police officers that were close friends had stepped in regularly to play the parts in Will's life that needed a man's touch … roles that Jordan couldn't fill or that Will didn't feel comfortable letting her play.

And somehow, it had all worked out. Her son was now in high school…at the top of his class….his favorite subject was science, although he liked math, too. He was part scholar, part athlete, part Casanova.

And all boy. Jordan smiled at her son's photo one more time before walking into the conference room for staff meeting.