This time Nina is nccjfan and cjfann and we don't own Crossing Jordan. But we wish we did.

The inspiration for this came from a line Jo (cjfann) wrote in Cognac Diamonds and a Guy Named Roby -- . Like somehow they knew each other before...almost as if they were lovers in a former life. Soul mates, Lily would call it. When two souls enviably find each other life after life.

Never one to let inspiration fall by the wayside, Sherri (nccjfan) proposed an AU Jordan/Woody story, dealing with the idea of them being soul mates. Careful attempts have been made to keep the characters' traits and personality intact, even though they are no longer living in 21st century Boston, but rather the Wild West.

And yeah, we know the concept of a Sheriff Woody (ie Toy Story) is going to get some chuckles.

Special thanks to Bourbon and her story Matter of Time. It inspired us, too.

Chapter One

A Full Shift Later

Woody scrubbed his hand on his face. He was exhausted but he felt...great.

The newspapers and news reports were all a buzz about a major smuggling bust that came out of the department. Woody was there, maybe not quite front and center, for the climatic ending the night before. But close enough. He may not have been on the short list of arresting officers but he was still an important part of the task force...along with his solid contacts in the medical examiner's office.

So what if he was called in for his pull? This was a big bust and he was part of it. He was there when the "atta boys" were being past around outside of booking. With the knocks his reputation had been getting the ego boost didn't hurt.

All that was left was to dot the i's and cross the t's on his end of the report. That was reason he was still sitting at his desk a full shift after the primaries dragged the suspects into custody. Woody wanted to hand his report in to the DA's office personally. Even having an inflated ego didn't make Woody forget he still had to repay to debt he owed...and if a little brown nosing helped...

Woody jumped when yet another newspaper was tossed on his desk.

"Your buddy's take," Woody's lieutenant pointed out over the rim of his coffee cup. After his little public display with the reporter, JD Pollack, last winter Woody found it difficult to get though any conversation about the plague of the press without someone making a crack about his so-called "relationship" with the writer. Normally he dished it back as well as he got it. There wasn't any doubt around the bull pen there wasn't any love lost between the cop and the reporter.

"I guess since he nothing to bust you about he didn't name you by name…but there is a nice sound bite about the low ranking homicide detective who's in the ME office's back pocket."

Woody thumbed the paper and snorted at the byline. He was too tired to make any smart ass comment.

"When was the last time you slept? That report can wait until morning. Go home get some rest...you deserve it..."

Woody pushed one last button on his computer. "Too late...it's done."

"Good. Get the hell out of here...that's an order."

Woody took a minute to log down and grab his jacket. He had to admit at six o'clock that morning he was still running high on the adrenaline of a big bust...but now at six in the evening he was just running on fumes. He was in his second wind, but that was fueled ninety percent caffeine and ten percent of not want the heady rush to end. As he walked out he wondered if Nigel had any thing he wanted to tag on to his report.

A quick stop at the morgue. Home and sleep could wait.

Jordan looked up and down the corridor to make sure she was alone before she shook her hips in a little happy dance. Last night a case they had all worked long hours on broke. For the first time in weeks she was oddly free in more ways than one...both professionally and personally.

She came home late one night to find her spare key on the counter. There wasn't any note. It didn't surprise her. She and JD hadn't really talked in weeks. She didn't have the presence of mind to think about it at the time. They had a morgue full of dead mobsters and a gun smuggling ring imploding with every passing hour. Like wolves on the trail, she was with the team that kept the pressure on. At last it was over. The bad guys were behind bars. Now that she had a minute to think about JD, she realized that instead of being upset...she just had that familiar feeling of relief. Add the satisfaction of a solid case and she was feeling better than she had in a very long time.

She poked her head into Trace. "Nigel! It's time to go!" She waltzed up to his desk and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Can't you hear it? There's a pitcher of margaritas calling our name. Turn off that machine right now. Lily already left to snag a table."

"I've never been one to leave a good batch of tequila and lime waiting..." Nigel's fingers flew over his keyboard securing its files and turning it off for the night. Jordan wasn't paying any attention. She was busy turning everything else off.

"I haven't seen you this excited about just hanging out in along time..." he smiled.

"I've been ...distracted."

"Oh...so that's what they call it," Nigel said grabbing his helmet. He was just about to ask her about what happened with her latest distraction when the constant one walked in. "Speaking of distractions...Good evening Woodrow."

"Woody!" Jordan smiled. "We're just heading out to empty a pitcher or two at the Beef and Brew. I'd ask you if you'd like to join us but you look like hell."

Nigel cleared his throat instead of laughing. The young detective did look like he belonged on one of the slabs down the hall. By the scruffy face and wrinkled suit, it was more than oblivious that he hadn't taken a break since the operation the night before.

"I'm sorry. I thought my GQ photo shoot was scheduled for next week," Woody returned with a smug smile of his own.

Jordan didn't jump at the bait. She was in too much of a good mood. She walked out the door lightly brushing her hand across his stubbled cheek. "Go home, cowboy. Get some sleep. It's not against the law, you know."

Nigel slapped his shoulder as Woody tried not to watch her walk away. "You look like you could use a drink, mate. I'm sure we can find a spot for you at the table."

It was on the tip of his tongue to give in and agree with Jordan. He should go home and sleep...after all it was an order...but the idea of sharing a beer with good friends was just what he needed. No matter if Jordan thought he was her next call.

The Beef and Brew was decidedly busy for a midweek night. Lily was only able to grab a single booth and a couple of chairs. Bug called it tight...but Lily referred to it as intimate as Jordan walked in.

Tight ended up being an understatement when Woody strolled in the door behind Nigel and Garret, but after the first pitcher of margaritas they made do. In fact, things were down right cozy. Nigel told them the story of an unattended death turned homicide he worked on the week before. The defense had taken on a decidedly odd twist.

"...And then she said that it wasn't to blame for slipping her ex a deadly dose of arsenic ...he had been asking for it since they first met in Medieval England." Nigel's tone said he wasn't totally convinced the murderess wasn't speaking the truth.

"Oh...so things were rotten in Nottingham for everyone," Jordan harrumphed. "You didn't believe her...do you?"

Nigel simply arched his eyebrow. "It's not my place to judge..."

It was Lily who added kindling to the fire. "I've been reading up on hypnotic regression. It's the practice of searching for a person's past lives through hypnotism. It's very interesting, you know."

"It's not that far fetched of an idea," Bug said helping himself to a nacho chip off of Nigel's plate while the lanky Brit was deep in thought.. "Since the beginning of time, Hindus have believed in metempsychosis, the transgression of one's soul from one body to another, as the true path of enlightenment...it all a part of karma."

"My karma must have been something else to have ended up with the life I'm living now," Jordan quipped.

Nigel smiled at a point beyond Jordan's shoulder. She hated it when he did that. It made her feel like she was missing some earth tilling point...or someone was right in back of her ready to surprise the crap out of her. She casually looked over her shoulder to make sure.

"Some people believe that souls are not only reborn in worldly bodies...but are fated to find each other over and over again. Soul mates." Nigel said with absolute honesty.

"With my track record my soul mate must be stuck somewhere in a South American jail," Garret said into his third scotch of the evening. "...and can't get out..."

"That explains a lot..." Jordan countered taking the glass out of his hand.

"I'm in the belief that ours souls are intertwined and sometimes travel from body to body—bouncing back and forth in their quest, regardless of the earthly body's state," Nigel added.

"So it's like when you think you've found your perfect match only to wake up...one... morning and find out they're not the person you thought they were..." Jordan shrugged "That would explain the divorce rate."

"What do you think Wood? Does she have a valid argument for acquittal?"

Woody leaned back in his chair and tried to consider Jordan's question. He swallowed the last drag of the draft he had been nursing all night and realized his head was just too fuzzy to think straight. He just gave the party-line-cop answer. "I don't know. I'm not a lawyer."

"No, but you're falling asleep where you sit," Jordan said softly putting her hand on his shoulder.

He looked at her short, buffed nails. The dim lights and good company relaxed him to the point where he was feeling his body shutting down. He set his glass on the table along with a few bills. He quietly, but congenially, made his excuses and told everyone good night. He was half way out the door when he felt Jordan's hand on him once more.

"Do me a favor and give me a call when you get home."

"As fun as that sounds I'm a little too tired for phone sex, Jordan."

"Since you are pretty well out of it, I'll excuse that comment." she smiled. "I just want to make sure you've made it home alright."

"I'm a big boy Jordan...but I'll call. Go on," he nodded to the table. "I think you should worry more about Dr. Macy. Make sure he takes a cab. I'll talk to you later."

Woody felt like he put it on auto pilot all the way home. He dropped his suit coat as soon as he walked in the door and carried a fresh long neck into the bathroom with him. He had heard about Nigel's reincarnation case. It had been the subject of a myriad of jokes around the office for days. The suspect was being psychologically tested even though she seemed utterly sane in every other way. He was lucky. Their arms-smugglers were just crying for a lawyer. Talk about bad karma...even their high priced legal team knew they had them dead to rights.

After a quick shower he shuffled back into his living room. He was dog-dead tired, but he knew if he laid down right then he'd never sleep. He stumbled to the sofa and turned on his TV. Thumbing through the stations, he stopped on an old black and white John Wayne movie. It was just starting.

The early Duke movies were all the same. His character's name was always John something-or-another. Badge or not, he was always the lone voice of truth and justice in whatever part of the Wild West. Still, those movies were fun to watch. This particular one had him going head to head with the bad guys while saving the life and winning the love of his pretty co-star.

"Come to think of it...there was always a pretty girl to keep him close to town in the end..." Woody yawned.

Before he knew it, he fell asleep watching a travel-worn John Wayne swagger across the screen after riding into town on the trail of the villain. Even in his Hollywood makeup, The Duke looked confident...maybe even a touch arrogant... as he bellied up to the nearest bar looking for a drink, a little information, and a place to rest his head. Quick with a gun and a smile for the ladies, John something-or-another was always ready to what it took to save the day...

That was the last coherent thought Woody had as both the movie and the smuggling case faded from his mind and sleep finally claimed him…..