1000 Miles From Nowhere

A/N : Disclaimer - I don't own Crossing Jordan, or any of the characters in this fic. I'm just using them to tell a story I've come up with. Property of Tim Kring, NBC, Tailwind Productions, and anyone else I've forgotten. I'm not profiting off this, it's just for fun. :) That out of the way, how about we get on with the fic!

-- CHAPTER ONE --

Woody had to admit it. Devan was hot in that little red dress. Absolutely positively drop dead gorgeous.

Not saying that Jordan didn't clean up nicely either, but Devan was much more willing to get dressed up and go for a night out on the town. And she wasn't full of commitment issues like Jordan was. No intimacy issues either - that was nice. He'd actually gotten to kiss her at the end of their first date - dinner at a small restaurant overlooking Boston Harbor and catching a movie at the theatre - and she didn't shy away from him.

Woody had always had a soft spot for Jordan Cavanaugh. The way she looked with her hair in soft curls around her face, in that black dress and those heels - he'd spent many nights watching her spin and dance through his dreams - and taken many a cold shower when he'd been snapped back to reality, right before her lips pressed against his.

But Devan Maguire was different. She was...spunky. Light. You could describe her like a glass of champagne. Tall, blonde, and bubbly. And Woody liked bubbly women. They were more fun to be around. They liked hanging out and trying new things. They kissed after the first date. Kissed a little more after the second.

Kissed real good after the twentieth.

Woody didn't take it any farther than kissing Devan, because in reality, somewhere deep down in his heart, he still had the hots for Jordan Cavanaugh.

What Detective Woodrow Hoyt failed to realize was the fact that with each date with Devan, Jordan pushed him farther and farther away, locking him out of her heart for good.

As the weeks turned into months, Jordan made it perfectly clear to Woody that if he was going to hang with his cheerleader, he wasn't going to be hanging with her. She knew what could happen if she let her heart get taken by Woody, only to have Devan steal him away. But it wouldn't technically be stealing him away, because the brown haired blue eyed farmboy detective was running after Devan like a dog chases a ball.

Garret was the first to notice it happening. Then Nigel. Each of Jordan's "brothers" had taken it upon themselves to keep Jordan from doing three things: Keep her from getting hurt, keep her from hurting herself, and keep her from running.

When Max had left, Jordan had become withdrawn for a while, but the two men had coaxed her out of it. Nigel had taken her out for parties and drinks some nights, other nights Garret had dragged her along with him to smoky little bars and clubs to listen to live jazz and drink scotch, discussing what they were going to do with their screwed up social lives and commitment issues. Woody had tried to get her to come with him, but she couldn't. Her heart was still too fragile. Garret and Nigel were safe. Garret and Nigel came over one night and the three of them sat around in her loft, drinking beers and playing cards until the wee hours of the morning. Garret and Nigel had sat through Steel Magnolias with her, in it's entirety no less, and then they'd sat around talking about it, and admitting that even though they were men they too had gotten choked up at parts of it. Woody...she couldn't trust him yet.

Just as she was about to try, Devan came along. And Woody hopped on that train without hesitation, leaving Jordan standing alone on the platform. Part of Jordan was very angry at Woody, but the other part understood. He shouldn't have to wait this long for her. So he didn't. He left Jordan in the dust, and he and Devan hit it off immediately.

Then Devan was killed in a plane crash.

Jordan sat at her desk in her office, after the last of the family members of those killed in the crash had left the building. Nigel and Bug had returned a few hours ago, after Garret had told them they had done all they could. The two of them had returned, heads hung low, walking in step as they went through the halls. They were at the Pogue tonight - as many others from the PD and the Morgue were - killing off brain cells and mourning the only way they knew how.

Nobody had seen or heard from Garret after he left the scene almost five hours beforehand, and Jordan was starting to get worried. She rubbed her eyes wearily as she sat at the desk, not having slept or had any real food for the past 48 hours. She must have nodded off, because she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a knock on her doorframe.

"You alright Jor?"

Looking up, she smiled weakly when she saw Garret standing in her doorway, still clothed in his emergency jacket and the same thing he'd been wearing for two days. "I was about to send out a search party Gar. Where've you been?"

"Around. I...I needed some time to myself before I came back here, you know?" He smiled slightly and then sighed, looking down. "You did real good handling things here, Jordan."

"And contrary to what you think, you did a real good job at the site, Garret." Jordan stood and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She felt tears spring to her eyes. "She appreciates how hard you guys tried. I know she does." She sniffed softly, then buried her head in his chest.

"Don't blame yourself Jor. You couldn't have known." Garret slid his arms around her back, holding her close to him as he rubbed her back softly. "None of us knew."

"But I was horrible to her...and her mom...her mom said that Devan thought we were good friends. Friends. Hell Garret, we went for drinks once. Just once!" Jordan felt tears streaming down her face. "I know better than that. It happened to mom and then it happened to Devan. I shouldn't...I can't end conversations like that. Bad things happen to people when I -- "

Garret kissed the top of her head softly and then lifted her chin so she was looking into his eyes. His own were full of tears, and he just shook his head. "This wasn't your fault. Now let me grab a shower, and we'll head down to the Pogue and grab some drinks, alright?" Jordan just nodded and pulled away, then went and sat at her desk as Garret headed for the locker room to get cleaned up. He came back a little bit later, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. "You ready to go?" He asked quietly, standing again in her doorway.

"Yeah." She got up and grabbed her bag and her jacket, pulling it on before wrapping an arm around his waist as he slung his jacket over his shoulder. "Thanks Gar." Jordan whispered quietly once they were in the elevator, resting her head on his shoulder.

"For what Jordan?" He looked down at her as they rode down to the lobby and walked through the empty floor, saying goodnight to Charlie on their way out.

"For not thinking this is my fault." She smiled up at him as they walked to her car. "I'll meet you there, okay?"

"Sure thing." Garret smiled and pulled away, making sure she got the El Camino started alright before heading for his own car.

She waited for him to pull out, then headed out towards the Pogue, him following her. It was a short drive, but normally Jordan would definitely have the radio on - and she'd be singing. But not tonight. Tonight, she needed silence.

So did Garret. He too, had his radio off as they wove through the darkened city streets towards the bar. He knew there were probably going to be a lot of people there, and he needed to collect his wits and nerves about him before having to deal with it all. He sniffed softly, rubbing tears out of his eyes as they paused at a red light. Devan had been a good medical examiner. Sure, she was young and inexperienced in some things, and she'd been pushy as hell, but she was still a good doctor. As they continued on, Garret took a few deep breaths to calm his emotions.

When they reached the Pogue, they had to park on the street because the small lot was full to the brim - and he could count four squad cars at just a glance of the vehicles. He climbed out of his car and locked the doors, before waiting for Jordan to catch up to him. He rested a hand on her lower back as they walked towards the entrance.

"Garret, do you think Woody is here?" Jordan slowed her step and looked up at him as he pulled the door open, the warm air and smell of beer and nuts hitting them.

"Probably." He looked down at her sadly. "He's hurting bad Jor, but stick close to me tonight if there's a problem with him."

"Not planning on moving any farther than this." She smiled up at him as he let the door close behind him. "Wow. There's a lot of people. Oh, there's the crew." She waved over at a booth by the far wall, where Nigel, Bug, Lily, and even Sydney were sitting. "Good, they got the big booth." Jordan sighed softly and walked to the bar, Garret following close behind her. She ordered a beer for herself, then looked at Garret. "And a scotch, neat, make it a double for him."

"You know what your boss drinks. Not neccesarily a good thing." He smiled and then nodded his head at the table. "We'll be over there." There was still no sign of Woody as they made their way through the crowd, Jordan sliding into the booth first and sitting next to Nigel. She looked at Bug, Lily, and Sydney and motioned them to move around on the bench seat as Garret took the spot on the other side of her, naturally.

Jordan liked being between Nigel and Garret. It made her feel very safe, and was one of the few times after the break-in that she really did feel protected anymore. She looked around at what everyone was having. Sydney - just a beer, Lily - a cosmopolitan, Bug had a large draft mug in front of him, and Nigel was sipping off a vodka martini. When the barkeep - Mark, a guy she'd hired after dad left to take care of the place - brought her beer and Garret's scotch over, she thanked him and then raised her beer in the air. "First off, we need a toast. To Devan."

The six of them all clinked their glasses and bottles together, then took a drink. This was going to be a night none of them were going to forget for a very long time.

TBC.