Disclaimer: Don't own any of 'em, or any piece of the show, but have a really good time playing with Tim's characters. I promise to put them back when I'm done – in good condition. None the worse for the wear. I promise. You've been disclaimed.

A/N Thanks so much for the kind reviews on my other fanfics.

Is the glass half empty or half full?

She was asking herself this very question, as she stood by her bedroom window in her nightshirt, quietly contemplating the statement Woody had made. No, not really a statement – the order, the ultimatum – he had given her tonight.

She sighed and crossed her arms, hugging her waist. Normally, at this time of night, she was in bed, sound asleep. But not tonight. And from the way her nerves were tingling, she didn't think she'd get a good night's sleep in a long time. She pushed away from the window jam, and looked at herself in the mirror. Everything had been going so well, how on earth, why on earth, had he wanted to spoil it?

He had been angry, almost furious with her. After badgering her for weeks on end about their "relationship," Woody had finally told her, "Either we are, or we aren't. Either we're a couple, with a real relationship, not just this flirting, or we're nothing, Jordan. I can't play these games anymore. Either you love me or you don't. If you do, I'm willing to pursue anything with you. If you don't, I need to get on with my life. And you do, too. I'll give you two days to think it over, Jordan. Two days. Then I want your answer."

Jordan had looked at him with confusion in her eyes. "Why so soon?"

"We've known each other for two years. We've danced around the issue for at least half that time. You should know your heart by now."

So was her glass half empty or half full? Was she content with just being friends with Woody, or did she want to use the friendship as a jumping off place to a deeper relationship? Was the glass half empty or half full – not enough to really quench your thirst, but only enough to make you long for more?

Wearily, she rubbed her forehead. This was not a decision she had planned to make anytime soon. But now she had to. Too much was at risk. She could lose a good friend. Or she could gain something she never thought she would have.

Truth was, ever since that infamous kiss in the dessert, things hadn't been the same. He had begun tearing down the emotional walls that she had built around herself then. And even though she had been insistent that those walls go back up, he still found ways to chip away at the brick and mortar of her security. He did grow on people in the most unexpected ways. He did on her.

She had tried her best to fight the attraction. She had done her best to discourage him. She had deliberately dated other men, with his knowledge. She had nearly paraded them in front of him. But the only person she was fooling was herself. When these other men tried to kiss her, she could feel a wave of nausea well up inside her and she would push them away. They weren't Woody.

He was there when she knew she needed him. He was there when she needed him but wouldn't confess to herself that she did. He had held her when her father left, even though she had told him to leave. Little by little, he had chipped away at her tough exterior until the wall came down with a resounding roar. She knew when it had happened. And her heart had never recovered.

They both had worked late in her office on a homicide that was giving the entire Boston PD fits. A wealthy socialite had been murdered in her bedroom. All evidence pointed to her husband. But he had an airtight alibi. Woody had searched for any clue, any tiny piece of evidence that would link the husband to the crime scene and had come up with nothing. Finally, he arrived in Jordan's office a little after eight that evening, needing her to play the "game" with him – the role playing game she had so often played with her father before he left.

She had gladly obliged, but nothing – no new leads – came out of it. For hours they had tried. Finally, with the clock nearing midnight, they had admitted defeat. They had been sitting on the couch in her office, her leaning back on the armrest and him facing her. She had looked up and found him much closer to her than she expected. Gazing into his blue eyes, she wondered what he was thinking, because he had suddenly gone quiet. He lifted his hand to brush a curl off her forehead and then slowly trailed the back of his hand down the side of her face to her chin. Lifting her chin ever so slightly, he settled his lips on hers.

And this time she did nothing to stop him, knowing in her heart, this was what she had been wanting ever since their time in the desert.

He had deepened the kiss gradually, and she had tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to her. He had reciprocated by wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her closer to him. If the night janitor hadn't come into the offices to clean, Jordan knew that they would not have stopped with just a kiss.

But the wall was down, and they both knew it. He had kissed her again when he walked her to her car. And the next day at lunch. And at dinner that night. He had given her a sample of what her heart really longed for and left her hungry for more.

And scared beyond belief.

What if she hurt him? What if he hurt her? Could they still be friends after that? Thoroughly frustrated with him and his ultimatum, Jordan made for the refrigerator. Either chocolate or beer would do nicely now, which ever one she could get her hands on the quickest.

A strident ringing brought her out of her revere.

"Cavanaugh," she said into her cell phone.

"Jordan, it's Garrett. We've had an explosion and fire at a mattress factory downtown. The rough estimate right now is 32 dead, God knows how many more injured, and the firemen have only just started. I need you at the morgue ASAP. It's going to be a long day."

"On my way."

Jordan flipped her phone shut. Whatever personal decisions she had to make, however she was going to respond to Woody's ultimatum, would have to wait.

She had never been so tired in her life. The bodies from the mattress factory just kept on coming. Autopsies had to be done because of all the variables of the deaths. Some died from the fire, some died from smoke inhalation, some died from the poisonous fumes that the fire and the mattress materials produced. Each body had to be given a reason for death.

For nearly two days straight, they all had worked – Garrett, Nigel, Bug, Peter and herself. She hadn't taken time to eat or rest, barely go to the bathroom, much less think about what Woody had said. She was hardly functioning. Finally, when things had slowed down to a crawl, Garrett had banished her from the autopsy rooms. "Go rest," he said.

She could only make it to her office and onto her couch. Wearily, she pulled an afghan off the back of it and lay down. She would have to get some rest before she even felt like going home. Her eyes soon shut and it only flickered through her mind that she needed to give Woody an answer. The only problem was that she still wasn't sure what the answer was. She had awoken to someone tenderly massaging her feet. Startled, she half sat up.

"Shh..." It was Woody. "Heard you've had a rough couple of days."

Wordlessly, she nodded, just enjoying his nearness and his gentle ministrations to her tired feet. She closed her eyes and tried to absorb his strength for a minute. Then, realizing what he had come for, she attempted to sit up.

"Hold still," he said. "Let me finish." His hands left her feet and continued to softly massage her calves and legs, finally coming to rest around her waist. He pulled her over into his lap and held her. She remained quiet for a few moments, then clearing her throat, said, "Woody, I'm sorry, but I haven't even had time to think the last two days. I don't have an answer for you right now."

"I know, Jordan. It's okay."

"No, it's really not. I know you want to know...."

"Have you thought about it?"

"Yeah, a little."

"What have you come up with so far?"

"I'm scared. I don't want to hurt you and I don't want to get hurt."

"Love's a gamble, Jo."

"I know... I just hate playing with hearts."

"That's the problem. You've played heads verses hearts for too long. You've always let heads win. Maybe hearts deserves a chance this time." He had pulled back and his blue eyes were looking directly into hers. "Want to give it a chance?"

His blue eyes were intense. Swallowing hard, she said, "I don't want to lose you. I just don't want to do anything that would tear us both to pieces."

Woody was silent for a moment. Softly, he ran his hand through her hair and down her side, finally coming back to cup her face so she was looking directly into his. "Maybe we both need a little time – a little space."

"What do you mean?" Now she was really frightened that he was going to leave her.

Woody read the apprehension in her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere...just going to back off for awhile. Let you decide in the next weeks what you really want. Then you can let me know. Meanwhile, we both can move on with our lives."

This did frighten Jordan. "I don't understand..."

Woody smiled, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. "You know, go on with our lives. Even see other people. Explore all the options. Then decide if we need to be together."

Jordan felt like someone had sucker punched her. Not really knowing what the appropriate response was, she had said. "If that's what you want..."

"But I warn you, Jordan," he had said. "This time I'm playing for keeps. Just remember that." And then he had lowered his mouth to hers and captured her lips. His tongue had brushed over her lower lip, making her mouth open to receive his caresses. It then slid in beside hers, rubbing against it. Jordan heard herself whimper. Woody immediately deepened the kiss even more, with one hand coming up beside her breast to softly caress the side of it though her scrubs. Jordan caught her breath. Without even thinking about it, she arched toward him. His hand dove under her scrubs to caress her stomach, and then the undersides of her breast, and finally her back. Then his hand trailed down her back to her bottom, along her thigh, stopping only a fraction of an inch away from between her legs. He gently caressed that area until he heard her moan. Tearing his lips away from hers, he had said, "Remember that while you are trying to make up your mind."

He had stood up then, with her still in his arms, and turned to lay her back down on the couch. He pulled the afghan up over her, and brushed her curls back out of her face. "Sweet dreams," he had said, and left, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"Sweet dreams my sweet ....." Jordan had thought. But despite her heated body, sleep soon claimed her. She soon drifted off, only to be haunted by a pair of blue eyes looking at her intensely in her dreams.