Between Time and Space

Disclaimer: I didn't own Crossing Jordan when I wrote my other stories, and that hasn't changed any. The Dark Lord Tim Kring has not seen fit to give it to me or anyone else.

Secondary Disclaimer: By popular vote, this story will have much to do with the Great Depression. That being said, most of what I know about it comes from the American Girl Move Kitt Kitteridge and the musical Annie. I don't own those either, but the point is that I may not be completely accurate in everything, but I will try valiantly to get it right.

Timeline: This takes place after "Embraceable You" when Jordan doesn't accept Woody's friendship ring/birthday present…and goes into my world from there. So assume that after the end of this story, Woody does not get shot, JD and Lu don't show up, etc.

Enjoy! (And review!)

Chapter One: Beacon Hill Aristocrat

Jordan sighed as she pulled into the driveway of her next pick-up. It had been two very long weeks. Since her disastrous birthday, her life had crumbled…mostly because of Woody. She had tired to talk to him about it, but the more she tried, the angrier he got. Now, he was no longer talking to her unless it was absolutely necessary. Part of Jordan found his behavior childish, but the other half knew that he just didn't want to set himself up for more trouble.

If she could, Jordan would rewind time and take the ring. She knew that she loved Woody…she just couldn't get herself to act on it. When she thought about how it would change their relationship, cold fear would grip her. She didn't want to lose Woody, which could easily happen if they became a couple.

Of course, shutting him down every time he tried to take things further wasn't helping either. In the past two weeks, Jordan realized that her fear of commitment and losing Woody had probably caused her to actually lose him.

So, Jordan did what she normally did when faced with a crisis—threw her self into work. Only that wasn't as effective as it normally was. Woody was everywhere…if not physically present as his job demanded he be, then in her memories which permeated the office, the precinct, and even her apartment.

It didn't really matter that he was avoiding her like the plague. Just remembering him brought back the tide of emotions Jordan was fighting against.

Sighing again, Jordan picked up her bag and walked inside. She paused just long enough to admire the spacious entryway in the gargantuan house before she made her way into what appeared to be the study. Reclining in a chair was a very old, very dead man.

And standing next to him was Woody. Jordan almost groaned. She had hoped that this case wouldn't involve him.

Glancing up from his notebook just long enough to verify that she was there, and to give her a derisive look, Woody reported on the situation at hand.

"No murder on this one, thank God," he began. It was clear that he was thanking God not because it wasn't murder, but because he wouldn't have to work with Jordan for long. "Just a really old guy whose time was up." He paused to turn a page. "Meet Benjamin Stevens, age 101. Maid found him this morning. History of heart disease and old age."

Jordan bent down to examine him. Working as quickly as she could, she gave Woody the man's stats, verified that he was not murdered, and arranged for him to be transported back to the morgue. Without any further acknowledgement, Woody disappeared out the door.

Jordan closed her eyes briefly. She hadn't expected letting him down to hurt so much—for either of them. More to take her mind off of Woody than anything else, she began to examine the books on a massive shelf behind the reclining deceased. The books were old…maybe even original printings. And they were all historical. Jordan surmised that the man had lived through enough of it, that he must have treasured his history. She came upon an entire shelf dedicated to the Great Depression.

One book was extremely worn. Out of curiosity, Jordan plucked it from the shelf and opened it. It was a journal—Benjamin Stevens' own, according to the inscription. As she turned the pages, Jordan glanced at all the trials the man had had when he was just starting out in life. He wasn't rich back then—far from it, actually.

Since the transport was still on its way, and Jordan didn't have anything else to do, she sat down in another chair and began to read the journal in earnest. She felt a bit strange at reading the man's private thoughts, but then again, he was dead and no one else would ever read them again.

It seemed that the transport had gotten lost, but Jordan didn't notice. She paused several times to think about what Stevens had been through. Eventually, her fatigue caught up with her, and one of those pauses left Jordan asleep in the chair.