Disclaimer: Don't own any of them...because if I did, Woody and Jordan would have been together in season three...Woody would have never gotten so damn cocky, and Devan would have never even been a blip on the screen.

Chapter One

She still looked the same after all these years....he knew she would. Still the same beautiful, chestnut hair. Still the same gorgeous honey-colored eyes. She hadn't changed a bit.

It was luck that brought him here tonight. Sheer luck. Or a practical joke of fate. He hadn't figured out which one yet. He was in Chicago on a whim...a few days off, somewhere to go he hadn't been before. Chicago fit the bill. Catch a Bulls game. Relax. Chicago on St. Patrick's Day was a real treat. Even more boisterous than Boston had been on March 17. He had been thinking of Boston...how long ago it was....and her, when he had read the poster in his hotel's lobby about the National Medical Examiners Annual Convention. He had joked with one of the clerks about how that was going to be a "really lively bunch." Just out of curiosity, he had requested a program, saying that in his line of work, he often had to consult with medical examiners. He was handed a thick program. He had looked up her name in the index. She was there. As a matter of fact, she was presenting a paper at the convention.

Jordan? Presenting a paper? Time had definitely changed some things....He had arranged to be present at her speech. And that's where he was now. She was still reed-thin. But dressed far more conservatively than he had ever remembered seeing her. Business suit. A red one. Damn. She always did look good in red. Her presentation was flawless. He was impressed. The years had improved her...how many had it been? Eight? Nine?

Eight years, three months, and 15 days, to be exact, he thought.

She concluded her presentation. There was polite applause. She answered a few questions. Then she winded her way off the platform and headed for the bar. She was tired and thirsty and tonight a diet Coke was not going to do the trick. She was here by herself...no one to answer to. She ordered a Scotch, neat. And a double would be better. Alone, at the bar, she began to nurse her Scotch.

"It's not good for a woman to drink alone at a strange bar, in a strange town," said a voice in her ear. She felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up. It couldn't be...not him...not after all this time. She turned and looked into a pair of blue eyes she had never forgotten, for she saw them everyday.

"Woody...." She could barely breathe the word.

"Can I sit down?" he asked, pointing to the empty barstool beside her.

Speechless, she nodded. "I heard your speech. Good work. Since when did you start doing things like that? Papers? Presentations?"

"Since Garrett and Rene married a few years ago and he stopped wanting to do them....he's slowed down some. Spends more time at home with her."

"Garrett actually married her? I never thought he'd remarry."

"Well...things change."

"You haven't. You're still beautiful, Jordan. Just like I remember."

Jordan winced inwardly and downed half her Scotch. Abruptly, she changed the subject. "So....you know what brings me to Chicago. What brings you?"

"A few days off...had to use up some vacation time. Tickets to a Bulls game."

She was relieved. For a minute, she thought he had found out.

Woody looked down at Jordan's hands that were surrounding her glass. No rings. "Not married, Jo?"

She winced again at his nickname for her. No one had ever called her Jo but him. "Nope. Either I'm too smart or no one will have me," she joked over the rim of her glass. "You?"

"Yeah. For a little while. But it didn't take." His hands were ringless, too. He took a swallow of his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry....it must have been difficult for you."

"It didn't last long...and no kids, so as divorces go, it was fairly painless."

Jordan downed the rest of her Scotch. "It's been great seeing you again, Woody. Really great. But I need to go now and get to bed. I've got to give another presentation tomorrow morning and then fly home."

"Back to Boston?"

"Yeah....I'm still there. I don't run anymore...."

Woody chuckled. Some things had definitely changed about the lady. He helped her down from her barstool. "Look, if you're ever in DC give me a call." He took a business card from his wallet, flipped it over and wrote down his personal cell phone number. "I'd love to see you again."

Jordan took the card and looked at the front. He was a special agent with the FBI. "So that's what you did after you left Boston."

"Sort of. I went back to Wisconsin for a while. But like Thomas Wolfe said, 'You can't go home again'." He smiled down at her. "That's where I met Sandra."

"You're wife?"

"My ex-wife. Kewuanne was still too small for me....so I left for greener pastures again. She didn't want to come with me, so we split. That's when I landed a Quantico. And here I am now."

"Special agent....what does that mean?"

"I'm stationed at DC. I look after the President."

Jordan gasped. "You're...."

"That's right..."

"Jesus, Woody...you're the President's body guard?"

"A little more than that. But I can't tell you exactly what. That's classified."

Although still stunned, Jordan quickly regained her composure. "I'm sure you enjoy your work...it must be fascinating. And if I'm ever in DC I'll be sure to look you up." She carefully put his card in purse...making a mental note to make sure it was carefully filed away when she returned home. She may need it if... "I really need to go now."

"I'll walk you to your room." He escorted Jordan to the elevators and up to her room on the eleventh floor. Pausing in front of her door, he took her hand. "It was great seeing you again, Jordan. You do truly look wonderful." He gazed into her honey-colored eyes ... eyes that could still trap him in their depths and warmth. "I hope we can see each other again, soon." He bent down and gently kissed her forehead. "Take care of yourself." And he walked off.

Jordan let herself back into her hotel room, shutting the door and leaning back against it. Her mind was whirling. Thank God, he doesn't know...he hasn't found out...nervously she chewed her bottom lip. But then again, he's FBI... now. He could know and is trying to trap me...or he could know and not care...no, that doesn't seem like Woody. Even after all these years.

Slowly she pulled away from the door and got ready for bed, her mind still racing. I have to stay calm...chances are he doesn't know...maybe he'll never know...at least not for awhile yet...one day... maybe. She took her hair down and brushed it out. Right now, she had to go on the premise that he didn't know. Right now she had to get some sleep – she had one last presentation to give tomorrow. Then she was flying home to Boston. Away from Woody, but back to her memories of him...and what they had....and what she destroyed.