She ran through the night streets of Washington, blinded by the dark. She squinted in the dull light of the street lights and grasped the cool metal in her hand. Here she was unregistered. She could almost be anything that she wanted to. Almost. Jordan had been here before, when she herself was on a residency rotation in her earlier years. Then next day, after a horrible night at a motel, she found herself in a small diner for breakfast.

"May I take your order? Ma'am?" A man, around Jordan's age asked.

She snapped into reality, looking at the man in a green waiter's apron. "Um, yeah. Can I have a coffee and a bagel."

"Sure can." He smiled. "My name is Timothy, I'll be your server. Would you like any cream cheese, butter, or jam for your bagel?"

"Sure, I'll have some cream cheese. Toasted, too. Timothy. And could I have some sugar and cream for my coffee?"

"Call me Tate." He smiled, scribbling down her order on his pad of paper and walked off.

"Tate. I like that." She spoke.

Around five minutes later Tate had returned to give Jordan her food. "Thanks." she spoke quietly.

"No problem." He replied, smiling. "You look like an out of towner. Where are you from?" he asked, sliding into the seat across from her.

"Not here. And aren't you supposed to be working?" she asked. Tate turned his head to the rest of the small diner to see it absolutely empty. "Point taken." She replied, smiling. She liked this guy, he was charming, nice, and didn't ask anything of her. Jordan found herself telling him all about the reason she was in Washington. JD, Woody, and the morgue friends all had significant places in some of her stories.

"Wow, I've known you forty-five minutes and you're telling me all about the last five years? I wonder what you'd say if I'm to know you a day." Tate chuckled.

"I- I don't usually do this." Jordan began.

"Do what?" Tate replied.

"I- I don't usually tell people about my past. It's not something I like."

"Really? I feel so loved.." Tate was looking for a name. " I can't believe you've told me so much about you and yet you still haven't told me your name." He smiled.

"Well, Tate, you can call me Shire, Hannah Shire." Jordan told him. "And Tate, you have a customer." she smiled.

"Well Hannah Shire, I'll talk to you later. And maybe I can help you figure out your ex's fiasco." He smiled.

"Oh, and Tate? My check?" she said.

"On the house!" he yelled. "May I help you miss?" he turned to the other customer, happy.