A/N: Wow, this is like my fourth fic in like a week and a half. I must have nothing better to do T.T Anyway, just a simple idea I had in my head after the continuation of the crossover episode, Los Vegas Please review!
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Crossing Jordan nor do I own the characters from Los Vegas.
Oh, the Irony!
"Seriously, Sam, I've really got a plane to catch!" Woody exclaimed, shaking himself free of her bewitching grip. He hopped out of bed, after lazing there all day in his tightie-whities, telling her the story of how he had gotten her to sleep with him in the first place. He quickly began dressing.
She was relieved to know that the rings were fakes and she did not have to take steps to initiate a divorce from her shotgun husband. "You know, I've never had a man scheme so much to get me into bed and then dress so quickly afterward," she admitted.
Woody flashed a most mischievous grin, "Sure you haven't!"
Un-amused, she threw a pillow at him and began dressing as well. Woody tried to bring his thoughts down to earth where they did not dwell on how incredibly sexy she was even while putting her clothes back on. If only he could remember correctly what it was like when they had come off to begin with. No matter, she slept nude that night.
"I thought you had a plane to catch," Sam said sulkily, her eyes catching his.
"I do!" Woody said softly, contemplating the next few moments. He approached her. She looked up to him expectantly as he touched her face and caressed her hair. Kissing her lightly on the cheek he whispered into her ear, "I had a wonderful time in Vegas, thank you."
She whispered something back, which made him blush ferociously. He gathered his bag and left her to go back to Boston.
Jordan had considered it, she seriously wanted to spend the night with Danny but something was pulling her back home; or was it pushing her. She could not figure it out.
She would never forget the way Danny treated her; like a helpless woman. The chicks in Los Vegas may be afraid to break their nails and get their hands dirty but not Jordan Cavanaugh. Making her 'wait' at the hanger and sending her to the spa while he had all the fun, what was that all about? He may be cute but who does he think he is? "No way; if this is what spontaneity gets you, call me predictable!" She said to herself. "Back in the airport in the same day," she shrugged, "Well that must be the most expensive half of a spa treatment anybody's ever had."
She thanked the airline agent at the ticket counter after receiving her boarding pass and turned around to see the last person she desired to see; Woodrow Hoyt.
"Jordan, pleasant surprise," he exclaimed, his voice dripped with disdain. He looked happy, though. "I didn't know you were in Vegas!"
"Well technically," she began but never finished. She had almost forgotten their feud. She was not entitled to give him all of the information in her life, she never was and apparently, she never will. "Never mind, long story," she said, knowing Woody wanted to hear it, but he would not have the courage to ask.
She did not know what to do. If they had not seen each other, she would have kept walking toward security and waited for her departure by the gate but now she felt odd. If she did not wait for him, it would mean that what they had, even their friendship, was really over. Her plane left in one hour. She did not know if he could stand being around her for that long.
Neither did Woody. "Well, I'm going to go wait for my plane."
"Me too, it looks like we're on the same flight. Why don't we walk together?" Jordan suggested as civilly as possible.
"Well, you see, we could," he replied, an enormous, fake smile plastered on his face, "but I honestly think I would bite your head off."
His rude reply put her off a little bit but she gritted her teeth and painted on the most sincere grin she could muster, "Have it your way, then." She walked, quickly, ahead of him.
During the pre-board screening process, Jordan was a dozen passengers ahead of Woody. He could not help himself but smile when he heard a woman exclaim, "Hey, watch where you're putting that thing!" However, his smile quickly faded upon realizing who had said it.
In the waiting area before boarding their plane, they sat amidst other passengers eagerly waiting to get to Boston. They sat as far apart as two strangers whose paths will never cross. In fact, Jordan found it difficult to comprehend that total strangers were striking up conversation with her and Woody, probably, would not even give her the time of day. She could believe that only two months ago she was willing to give up on her eternal fight with him and try for a future.
Woody was packing his bag into the overhead compartment when none other than the woman he least wanted to see, squeezed passed the man ahead of him. "Looks like we're sitting beside each other," she said disgustedly.
Woody hates irony. "Yeah, looks that way," he replied, looking equally as disappointed. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, giving his bag one last jam into the compartment.
This annoyed Jordan immensely, "What happened to 'moving on' and 'being civil'?" she asked sarcastically taking her seat next to the window.
"I wasn't aware that I would have to spend so much time being next to you," he replied evilly.
She scoffed. 'Why does he have to act so childish about this?' she wondered.
He turned his head away. 'Surprisingly, it was easier to get into Sam's pants than hers.'
Once everybody settled in the plane, Jordan and Woody turned their complete attention to the flight attendants who were graciously showing the passengers what to do in case of an emergency. The engines started up, the plane was rolling on the apron. Jordan looked out the window at all the workers signaling the pilots onto the runway. She could hear the engines screaming, the plane rolled faster, her gut remained on the ground as the plane took to the skies.
She sighed, taking out the magazine she had bought at the convenience store inside security. This was going to be a long flight.
They were silent for three hours of their five hour ten minute flight. Woody slept for a lot of it while Jordan was content with her magazines. 'Why do I feel as if I've missed an entire day of my life?' she wondered, 'Oh, that's because I have.'
"Here you go," the flight attendant said, handing them both a meal on a tray.
"Thank you," Jordan said.
"Thank you very much," Woody exclaimed. He added, "Did you know that you that you have the most gorgeous eyes?"
The woman blushed and in her sweet southern accent said, "Well thank you very much sir!" She wandered off above the clouds to finish her job. Later on, Jordan saw her and the other women flight attendants giggling and looking in Woody's direction.
"Is that how you got that ring on your finger?" She asked nonchalantly.
The question surprised Woody. He had forgotten to take it off because, for some reason, it felt perfectly comfortable where it was. "Why do you care?"
Jordan sighed, "No need to get defensive it was just a question."
At her tone of voice he lightened up a little bit, "I had a little fun in Vegas," he informed her unconsciously grinning.
"With Sam?" she asked, taking a bite of the mush on her plate.
"I think she really opened up to me. We had a lot of fun," as he reminisced, there was twinkle in his eyes that Jordan recognized. She had adored the shine when he used to lust after her and she had loathed it when he brought Devan a midnight snack. Her emotions surprised her when she felt indifference toward him for the first time in a long time. She also felt a sense of comfort knowing that they were talking again. She wondered how long it would last though.
However, the shine in his eyes did not last very long. An emotion of great sadness (and was that guilt?) swept over him like a wave. The way he felt about Sam was nothing in comparison to the way he used to feel for the woman sitting next to him.
Jordan smiled sincerely, "Did you visit a Drive-thru chapel or something?"
He laughed, "No, nothing like that." With a smile, he began telling her the story. The three step process into which he maneuvered Sam. "It would never work on you though," he complimented, "I wouldn't even try."
"Good," Jordan laughed, "Because I'm not like most women."
With a small grin and a look in her direction, Woody replied, "That's for sure."