Disclaimer: Crossing Jordan doesn't belong to me. Neither do any of the characters. If they did, Jordan would stop being such a flake and get it together with Woody, the Ultimate Sliders Hotness.

A/N: This chapter takes place between Out of Sight and Intruded. And I don't like Devan. Sorry.

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When I reach Nigel's office, in search of the DNA analysis I asked him to run earlier this morning, I hear a nauseatingly familiar laugh.

"Wonderful," I sigh, rolling my eyes as I push the door open. I was hoping to get through the whole day without running into Devan. I take a moment to hope that I can just duck in, grab the results, and escape before she spots me, but my efforts are in vain.

"Jordan," she chirps, her arms full of files. "I haven't seen you in a few days."

"Oh, I've been busy," I say, shooting Nigel a look. He snickers, hearing the addendum to that disclaimer that I manage not to voice. I've been busy avoiding you.

"Well, if you're not too busy now, I was about to go get some lunch. You could come with me if you want."

"Thanks, Devan, but I'm swamped," I tell her, reminding myself that it isn't really a lie. I do have a lot going on today. "Rain check?"

"I'll hold you to it," she says brightly, and I struggle with the overpowering urge to roll my eyes at her.

"Have a nice lunch," Nigel puts in from in front of the computer. She smiles at him, hefting the files and heading for the door.

"I think I'll see if Detective Hoyt is free for lunch," she tells us blithely. "He's a really interesting guy. And cute, too. Huh, Jordan?"

With that, she flounces out of Nigel's office, leaving me glaring daggers at her back as the door shuts behind her.

"God, I hate her," I mutter, half to myself.

"Careful, love," Nigel warns, glancing up from his keyboard. "You're turning green."

"I am not."

He pushes away from his desk, leaning back in his chair to regard me with a superior smirk.

"Are you trying to tell me you aren't jealous of the attention our dear Detective Hoyt has been paying to the lovely Miss Maguire?"

I sigh, grabbing the file I need off of his desk. "She's so…perky." I use the word as an expletive. "Like a cartoon character on speed. I don't know what he sees in her."

"I do," Nigel pipes up helpfully.

"Shut up, Nige. I don't want to hear about how cute her butt is. Again."

"Oh, don't be mad, love," he chuckles. "You know your arse is cuter than hers."

He reaches out to squeeze the arse in question and I smack his hand.

"You're such a pig."

"Lovely posteriors aside, Jo," he says, rubbing his now-sore hand, "Devan has one thing you don't."

"What? Sparkly pom-poms?"

"Emotional availability," he retorts. "Listen, Jordan. Woodrow's been chasing you for years, but you've never let him catch you."

"I'm hard to get," I say defensively, and he nods.

"Yeah, I know," he replies, sounding a little exasperated. "But no man is the Energizer bunny, love. Not even Woodrow. He can't just keep pursuing you indefinitely without any sort of encouragement. You and I both know how he feels about you, but if you keep pushing him away, he might actually eventually go."

"So what am I supposed to do?" I demand, feeling strangely exposed. I forgot how observant Nigel can be. "If things get too serious, I'll cut and run. You know that."

"You don't have to run, love."

"I don't want to," I say softly, pleading. "I don't want to run anymore. I'm tired of it. But old habits die hard, Nige. I don't know how to stop myself. And he means more to me than…he means a lot to me. If I let him in, if I let him get close to me, and then he hurts me…I don't think I could take it."

He watches me pace around his office, a knowing look on his face.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

I stop dead in my tracks. "I guess I am," I whisper, covering my face with my hands. "God, Nige, I do love him. What am I going to do?"

"You could talk to him," he offers gently.

"How?" I ask, my tone scathing. "I can see it now: 'Hey, Woody, here's the autopsy report on your latest victim, and by the way, I'm in love with you, so please don't break my heart because I think it might kill me if you did.' That'll go over real well."

"You could just try letting him in, love."

I blink rapidly, trying to fight back tears.

"What if he doesn't want me?" I ask, hearing the hitch in my voice. "I've strung him along for such a long time. What if he's given up on me? What if he wants somebody with less baggage? I couldn't blame him if he did."

"He doesn't," Nigel says, confident. "Nobody who looks at you like Woodrow looks at you could possibly want someone else. He cares about you, Jordan, and he wants to be there for you, but he can't be unless you let him."

"And if he breaks my heart?"

Nigel gets up and comes over to me, pressing a brotherly kiss to the top of my head. "Then we'll patch you back together, love," he promises. "That's what friends are for."