This is my first fanfic so far, or at least my first one that isn't purely fluff. Please tell me what you think, and if something is wrong don't be shy, tell me. I want to know how to do better in the future. Though correction of spelling and other careless errors are not my point of expertise, so that won't change. If you like how this fic starts, I will continue it. Much appreciated!

Oh, and I suck and titles. Don't laugh at me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Crossing Jordan or it's characters. If I did, Nigel and Jordan would already be together, and Woody...well, let's leave him out of this conversation. That's why I write fanfiction.

The Basement

Chapter 1: Over

- Jordan -

I walked quickly from the building, not really noticing much around me. People stared as I brushed past. I knew I must look bad; my face was surely burning red with anger. My breathing was heavy and my eyes were blurred with tears. I could tell that he was watching me go, could almost sense his eyes on the back of my head, looking on with satisfaction. I was too angry to care however. I didn't care about any of it anymore. It was over. Let detective Hoyt stare at me and smirk all he wanted, he was no longer my problem.

I brushed away some stray tears as I made my way up the street towards my car. I fumbled with my keys before I finally managed to get in and slam the door. Stealing a glance back outside, I could just see Woody turning away from his window.

Son of a bitch…

I pulled my car angrily out of the parking space and up the street. I let my hands guide the steering wheel automatically, taking whichever path seemed right, leaving my mind free to wonder. It was probably a miracle that I wasn't in an accident because I was paying so little attention. It therefore came as a surprise when I found myself pulling into my usual parking space at the morgue. My original intention as I left Woody was to go back to my apartment, maybe get drunk off of some of the beers in the fridge, and sleep for what was left of the day. Although when I really thought about it, what I was looking for could not be found there. The morgue was more of a home to me than my apartment had ever been. Many of the morgue staff felt that way. What I needed was familiarity.

I got out of the car and walked through the doors. Just as my hands had been during the short drive here, my feet were on autopilot, taking me to the elevator and riding it up to my floor as I had done so many times before.

- Nigel -

My computer hummed in a familiar sort of way as I gazed out of the office door, lost in thought when I was supposed to be working. It was an annoying habit, and even more so when Dr. Macy caught me at it. He was out on call however, so I was safe for the moment. In fact, I was glad that I was doing it this time, because I saw Jordan go past.

My heart did a summersault, the way it always did when I lay eyes on her. To no one did I ever admit it, but I was secretly in love with Jordan Cavanaugh. I would never tell her though. I was in love, yes, but also smart enough to know that I was simply not her type. She belonged with someone like Woody, the macho detective sort, not me, the geeky computer-lover. I was also too scared, too cowardly, too afraid that I would be turned down. Yet every day that I spent with her I couldn't help but get that feeling. Watching her miserably on the days she was here and secretly longing for her company on her days off. And on that note, wasn't today one of her days off?

"Jordan!" I called. "What are you doing…" but she simply stormed past. Bad sign; something was up. My heart did another flip as I realized that no one else was here. I was the only one she could talk to, the only one who could help her.

I stood from my chair and walked quickly towards her office, knocking before slowly pushing the door open. Jordan was sitting at her desk, a drawer open and some paperwork laid out. Yes, Jordan doing paperwork on a day off was a very bad sign.

"Love?" I asked cautiously. "Jordan? Is everything alright?" She didn't answer, or even move. But I heard a distinct sniffling sound, and knew immediately that she was crying.

"Jordan," I said as I knelt quickly at her side, "what is it?" Her face was bent downward, long strands of chocolate brown hair falling in front of her, almost hiding her face. Yet I could still see the tears.

"Jordan, talk to me," I said, brushing her hair behind her ears with my left hand and placing the other comfortingly on her knee. "I know I'm not Woody," I began, "but I still…" I stopped abruptly as I heard a small wail escape her. The color drained from my face as I suddenly realized what was wrong.

Brilliant.

"Oh god Jordan, I'm so sorry. That was stupid. I'm sorry." To my surprise, she turned her face and looked at me. Tears were sliding freely down her cheeks. All I wanted to do was take her in my arms and make the pain go away; it broke my heart to see her upset like this.

"It's not your fault Nigel," she said shakily, lowering her head again.

"Talk to me love," I urged her. "Let me help."

"It's nothing you can help with," she said, more shakily than ever. "It's over." I felt guilty as my heart skipped a beat. I didn't let my hopeful feelings show on my face as I said, "What happened?" She shook her head.

"He said things. Things that I can never forgive…" She was just short of sobbing now. Rarely had I seen Jordan break down like this, and I almost felt like crying myself.

"What did he say?" I asked soothingly, but she shook her head again.

"I…I'm not ready," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I said quickly. "You don't have to say. Not now."

"Thank you," she replied softly. "It's too much. He went too far…" And she began to sob harder still. I couldn't just sit there. Slowly, I draped my arm over her shoulders and we stood together. We made our way to the couch where I put my arms around her, rubbing circles in her back while she cried into my shoulder. We were there for awhile, just sitting while she cried. Eventually she broke away from me and looked into my face. Tears were still falling from her eyes, but not nearly much as they were.

"Any better?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "Thanks Nige. I needed that."

"I'm always here for you love," I replied. "And if you decide you want to talk about it later, I'll listen." She nodded and leaned forward. I gave her a brief hug and then asked, "Do you want me to drive you home? I have my motorcycle." She managed a smile.

"That sounds great." I smiled back and we walked out of the office together, her hand in mine.

Sorry that I make Woody be such a jerk in here. It's easier to be mad at him if I do. And yes, he gets worse. (evil grin) Review please!