Author's Note: heyhey peoples! here's a crossing jordan fanfic that i wrote a while back, and i figure i'd submit it for fun, see if anyone liked it at all. the fanfic you're about to read is based on an episode that i can't remember the title of, but it was the one with that really old serial killer that was about to walk free from prison, and ended up threatening jordan and the DA that she was with in the interrogation room- this is the ending thati think should have happened instead of just having the lawyerchick shoot him when he tried to attack her.

Warning:i haven't read it since i wrote it, so it might not be the best story possible, and if it isn't, letme know in the most gentle way possible thanks!

Disclaimer: i don't ownthe crossing jordan show, or any of the characters, or else this would have been the ending to that episode! enjoy!

Chapter 1

It had been a long night at work; the elderly, and confessed, serial killer had been released that day, not five hours, give or take, before the medical examiner's office had uncovered the evidence needed to keep him locked up. Therefore, in light of these developments, they had spent the past three hours trying to track the worman-knifer down with no leads on any public transit outlets in Baltimore; it was as though he knew he'd be discovered and had gone into hiding the second he stepped foot out of the courthouse. As a result of his vanishing, Woody had insisted on escorting Jordan home and searching and securing her apartment thoroughly before letting her stay there alone, especially after the mysterious car theft just down the street from the courthouse, half an hour after the hearing.

'I've always liked brunettes with evil in their eyes.' The psychopath's words to Jordan that day were burned into their memories as Woody tailed Jordan's car back to her apartment building, parking quickly in the lot in front of the building before racing to beat her to the door. She promptly unlocked it and held it open for the detective, who rushed inside, doing a quick scan of the lobby before heading into an elevator with Jordan who casually hit the button for her floor. They rode up in silence and the second the doors opened, Woody was in the hall, looking quickly left and right, gun drawn, before standing beside her door.

"Woody, this really isn't necessary," Jordan insisted for about the fifth time that night.Taking her keys out of her jacket pocket, she turned on in the lock, about to step in when Woody rushed in in front of her, gun still in hand, half raised, ready, as he started his search of the living-room. Rolling her eyes, Jordan waited in the doorway, watching Woody impatiently. Finishing his search there, he continued on to the bedroom, bathroom, and finally the study/computer room. He was still in there when she spoke, loud enough for him to hear her. "Is it safe to enter now, Detective Hoyt?" She didn't wait for an answer before heading for the kitchen. "Tell you what, I'm gonna make us some coffee while we wait for our serial killer to pop out of my sock drawer." Smiling at her own joke, she put on a pot of coffee and was getting out two mugs, milk, and sugar when Woody slowly walked in to join her. She turned to face him, another joke on her lips, and stopped dead when she saw what he was holding in his hand, remaining silent but looking intently at her; it was the ring he had tried to give her on her birthday.

"I…I found this on your desk," he stumbled, swallowing. "I remember leaving this in my desk drawer, at work, after you wouldn't take it." He looked at her steadily but his voice was soft. "Why did you take it Jordan?" Finally she found her voice.

"It was my birthday present, wasn't it?" she said defiantly.

"You and I both know that it was more than just a simple present." He sighed and looked at the diamond ring in his palm. "You know, for a while I could handle being pushed away, even rejected flat-out, but you know what really kills me? When you can't decide; when one day we're close and going someplace and the next, you get scared and blow me off, saying anything from 'I don't want to loose what we have', to 'I'm just not ready for that kind of thing' to get me to back off." He sighed again, angrily this time, and looked up at her. "Damn it Jordan, what do you want from me?" For a second, anger flashed in her eyes, but it quickly relented into a lost expression that tore at his heart.

"I don't know." Woody longed to comfort her and moved to sweep her into a hug, but stopped, slowly lowering his hands to his side.

"I forgot," he whispered. "You don't want to loose what we have." He slammed the ring down on her kitchen table and stalked out.

"Woody…" She heard her apartment door slam and she slumped down in a chair at the table, looking sadly at her birthday present before picking it up and holding it between two fingers.

'So what if I do have feelings for him?' she thought to herself. 'So what if I do go to work every day looking forward to seeing his smile? I could never tell him. If I did, and we did get close to being something, something would happen and he'd let me down, make me cry, like the other men that were or are in my life… wouldn't he?'

Tears of frustration and sadness stung her eyes, but her anger with herself kept them from falling right away: she had pushed him away; she'd done it so many times now that Woody was probably already courting a new future Mrs. Hoyt, and she didn't blame him; it was all her fault.

At last the tears fell and with them came body wracking sobs that she hadn't known were in her; it was all her fault; he had given up on her and it was all her fault.

Sitting at the table, her back was to her floor-to-ceiling pantry.

She could not see the pantry door ease open.

Slamming the door behind him, Woody headed for the elevator, still fuming, set on staying angry all the way back down from the fifth floor to the lobby, from the lobby to his car, from his car to his apartment, and from there to his bed where he could go to sleep and try to shut out his many thought about Jordan. Reaching the doors, he found himself walking past them to rest his forehead against the glass of the window overlooking the building's rear parking lot, closing his eyes and sighing deeply.

He knew he should go back and talk to her; he hated leaving someone on bad terms 'cause you never knew what could happen and when if at all you'd see the person again.

Opening his eyes, he surveyed the cars below him, absently skimming over personalized licence plates when on in particular caught and held his gaze: TSW 155. Dismissing his suspicion at first, he finally relented and pulled the sheet of paper from his inside jacket pocket that contained the licence plate, colour and owner's name of the car stolen that day near the courthouse. His suspicion turned to growing unease when he reviewed and acknowledged the information before him: colour-brown, owner-Mike Dawson, liscence plate-TSW 155. Slowly looking back out the window, he saw that sure enough, the car matched his written description and the given plate. A cold dread worked its way up his spine and through his heart; the stolen brown car was parked half-hazardly on the curb in front of the building, the driver-side door still open.

His last attempt at self-reassurance failed miserably when something occured to him: he never searched Jordan's kitchen. A view of her floor-to-ceiling cabinet flashed vividly in his mind and he redrew his gun, running back down the hall to Jordan's apartment.

"Does your boyfriend know you cry over him?" Jordan's tears and sobs ceased immediately, but she was stopped as she went to turn as a caloused hand was clamped securely over her mouth and nose and she was pulled from her chair to her feet. Recognition dawned on her and the only things stopping her from saying, 'Go firgure' was the hand over her mouth and the fact that she'd gone from self-loathing to terrified in 0.5 seconds: she'd found their serial killer.

-Well, there you have it, chapter 1! if you're nice and review, and get others to do the same, i'll only wait a day or so to put up the next chapter, if not, we're talking weeks! moo-ha! yeah, so anyways, please review:)