Author's notes: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! It really means a lot to me. I hope you all enjoy this chapter just as much. :)
xXx
Wonderland
Chapter 2
xXx
A cool breeze blew through the window as Jordan rolled it down. "Are we almost there?" she asked as she closed her eyes and turned her face to the fresh air.
Woody chuckled and reached over to turn off the air conditioning so it wouldn't escape out the window. "We only left half an hour ago. No, we're not almost there."
She gave him a glare, feigning annoyance. "Well," she muttered, "at least we're not flying." The bottle of water at her feet rolled across the floor of the car and under her seat as Woody switched lanes. "Any more news on the Burdette case?"
"No work, Jordan," he reminded her for the umpteenth time. "We're supposed to be taking a break." She had tried to bring a few files with her, but Woody caught her stuffing them in her bag before they left. After a not so angry reprimand, she'd agreed to leave them behind. It had taken some convincing, though.
She sighed and stared out the window at the trees zooming by near the side of the road. "It's a nice day," she said, not really sure what to talk about.
"You don't have to try to keep up a conversation, you know," he told her kindly, feeling her slight anxiety at being held in a moving car with no way of escape should she want one. "Just being here in your presence is all I need." A faint blush climbed up her cheeks.
A soft rumble of thunder rumbled in the distance. Woody and Jordan glanced at each other before bursting with laughter. "Guess the day really isn't all that nice after all," she admitted, smiling bashfully. Dark clouds could be seen off to the east, probably forming out over the ocean and moving slowly inland. "Are we gonna get caught in that?"
Woody looked quickly out the window before focusing back on the road. "I don't know," he said. "But it's just rain. What, you're not going to melt, are you?"
"Do I look green to you?" Jordan shot back, amused. An easy silence had begun to fall between them, but then she sat forward quickly, the seatbelt locking against her. "Oh, look!"
He did, but wasn't aware of anything out of the ordinary. "What?"
"That black garbage bag!" It was behind them by then and she turned her head to see it again. She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Don't you ever wonder if there're bodies in bags like that on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere?"
"Um, no." Biting back a sarcastic laugh, he looked in the rearview mirror and saw the bag in question. "Have you always thought like that?"
Jordan shook her head and didn't answer, choosing to reach for the half empty bottle of water and her purse instead. She rummaged around in the handbag and pulled out a small container of pills. They rattled against the side of the white bottle as she removed the lid to shake one onto her palm. Woody glanced over at the sound and saw her put the pill in her mouth and swallow it with the rest of the water.
"You okay?" he asked, concerned. He hadn't seen her take any medication before, and he suddenly realized that she had almost died not too long ago. The connection just hadn't been made between the tumor and current treatments. He felt like an idiot.
"Oh," she grinned again and dropped the bottle back into her purse. "Yeah. Just a headache." And that was that. He wasn't sure if he believed her, but was not about to call her on it.
"You'd…" he paused, weighing the consequences of what he wanted to say. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right? With your…health?"
Her silence was just beginning to worry him when she said, "Of course I would."
"I'm serious, Jordan." He wished he could stare her down, but decided watching where he was driving was a bit more important.
"I'd tell you." She placed a comforting hand on his arm. "There's no reason I'd keep something like that from you. You'd find out eventually, anyway." She was quiet for a second, letting her words sink in with him before she cautiously went on. "There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about. Concerning…my health, as you so aptly put it."
"Is that so?" The clouds that had been materializing out over the ocean had moved closer over the few minutes they'd been chatting and Woody turned the headlights on.
"Yeah." The first few drops of water splattered against the windshield. "About what to do if I have another seizure." She sensed his nervousness at the subject and quickly continued before he was able to stop her. "Now, I know it's a slim possibility that I might have one this week – or next, or the one after that, or ever for that matter – but I just want you to understand some precautionary stuff. If, by some crazy chance, anything happens, I want you to know what to do. Because I won't be able to tell you then." She attempted to give a light laugh.
"Jordan, it's - "
"Look, I don't want to frighten you or anything. But please. For future reference." She waited for any sign of resistance on his part, but none came. In fact, to her surprise he pulled right off the road and turned off the car. The rain picked up in intensity as they sat there for a moment in silence.
"Okay." Woody turned in his seat and met her timid gaze. "I guess if I'm going to be spending the rest of my life with you, I should know these things." She hesitated again at the implication in his words and he reached over and took both of her hands in his. "Tell me. I'm listening."
"Right." She smiled weakly and stared down at their hands before delving right in with a rush of words. "Well, if you see me start to fall, don't try to hold me up, okay? Lay me on the floor, on my side. Don't try to hold me still, either. It'll only turn out to be painful for both of us. Just try to keep my head from hitting anything. I know some people say to put something between the teeth, but don't do that; I might bite you, and believe me…it'll hurt."
"I think I might like having you bite me." Woody chuckled to let her know he was joking, loosing a hand and putting it against her cheek so she'd meet his eyes. "Anything else?"
His palm was warm, and she really wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss him, just because she could. She didn't like thinking about what had happened to her, much less talking about it with someone else. It was a difficult subject to touch on, but she nodded in response to his question anyway. "I, um, might be unconscious after it's over." She swallowed hard. "Don't move me, and don't leave me. If I get disoriented when I come to, you'll need to calm me down. And don't get me any food or water until I'm completely coherent." She was finally able to give him a playful smirk. "I'll tell you when I can talk again if you need to call a hospital. Okay?"
"Okay." Woody nodded. "Don't be afraid, Jo," he whispered, moving the hand from her cheek down her neck to draw her closer to him. The rain pattered harder against the car as he slowly pressed his lips to hers, shifting so he could wrap an arm around her waist. She kissed him back expectantly. For the first time since he had invited her, Jordan was truly excited about the trip. About being alone with him. A strange mixture of relief and giddiness flooded her veins, chased briefly by that familiar fear. Just as she was contemplating sliding herself over onto his lap, another car sped past them, honking teasingly as it went.
They reluctantly pulled apart. "I guess we should at least get there first, huh?" the detective muttered, his breath still tickling her skin.
"I guess so," she replied, tilting her head to kiss just below his ear. She grinned wickedly. "Are we almost there?"
xXx
The rain was just beginning to drizzle off as they stopped in front of a large, light blue townhome in a very nice neighborhood just outside the city. The home, situated between a white one on the left and a pale green one on the right, rose an impressive three stories. Landscaping covered the ground along the entire line, probably kept by a gardener or two. Even in the clouded evening light, the windows shone magnificently.
"Well," Woody said as he cut the engine, "should we go in?"
Jordan eagerly opened her door and climbed out, stretching her stiff limbs. It hadn't been an incredibly long drive, but she never had been one to stay still for extended periods of time. She breathed in the salty air, very glad to be away from Boston. The sprinkling rain stuck to her face and she quietly reveled in the sensation. Reveled in the fact that she was alive to feel it. Woody walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk to unload their two bags.
He handed her the keys as she walked around to help. "I'll carry these if you open the door."
"My hero." She flashed him a toothy smile and took the keys. Her purse was swung over her arm as she made her way up the brick steps to stand under the stoop's large awning. The key slid easily into the lock and she pushed the door open, holding it for Woody as he came in behind her.
"Wow." Woody set their bags down and looked around the foyer. The floors were white marble, sparkling in the lights Jordan had just turned on. A sweeping staircase with wrought iron railings reached up to the second floor, then the third. The furniture they could see – a long table by the stairs and a bench across the entryway – was rich mahogany.
"I almost feel spoiled," Jordan said, coming to stand beside him. "Where did your friend get the funds for this?" They had both investigated crime scenes in houses like this – some even larger and more expensive – but they'd never been given the chance to actually stay in one.
"Old money," he explained. "You should see his house in Boston."
"I don't think I want to." She peered into the rooms on either side. "Kitchen is over here, and is that a parlor?" Her shoes clicked against the marble as she walked in and turned on the lights. "Oh, Woody, come look at this!"
Large floor to ceiling windows covered the center third of the far wall, scarlet drapes falling down to frame them. A set of French doors was set in the center of the windowed wall, leading to a boardwalk that ended right on the rocky shore. It was a beautiful view. The furniture in this room was mahogany as well, including a lush sofa and a collection of cushioned chairs clustered around a large fireplace.
Woody walked over to where Jordan was standing before the windows and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. She leaned into him as he rested his chin on her shoulder and pressed his lips to her neck. "I could get used to this," he whispered into her ear, planting kisses along her neck and jaw. Suddenly, though, she tensed in his grasp. "What?" He loosened his hold on her, surprised. "What's wrong?"
She turned in his grasp, her lips turned up at the corners, her eyes unreadable. "I'm going to take our things upstairs. Why don't you see if there's anything to eat? Your friend was just here last week, right?" And then she was gone, making her way up the stairs with the suitcases.
Woody watched her, confused at what had just happened. Everything had been fine – perfect – and then she just bolted. As she always does, he thought grimly. Maybe this is going to be a little harder than I had planned. He stood there a moment longer, his gaze lingering on the stairs, before he willed himself to move.
The kitchen was just as impressive as he assumed it would be, but didn't really pay any attention as he began to open cupboards and drawers. Although they would definitely have to go to the grocery, he was able to find a box of spaghetti noodles and a jar of white sauce. Not too bad. It was as he was filling a pot with water that he realized Jordan hadn't returned yet. He set the pot on the counter by the stove and walked to the stairs, curious and a bit worried. Nothing could be heard from the rooms above.
The stairs creaked softly under his feet as he made his way up to the second story. He had passed a bathroom and small guest room before he noticed the quiet sobs. "Jordan?" The crying stopped almost instantly. The hallway ended with the master bedroom and bathroom. Their bags were left by the door, the lights off, but he could see her form silhouetted by large windows mirroring the ones in the parlor below. She was sitting on the bed, her back to the door and her head in her hands.
"I'll be down in a minute," she called, thinking he was still in the hall. Her voice barely hitched; she was too good at hiding her emotions.
Woody pushed the door fully open to let the light from outside spill in. "Hey," he said quietly, wincing inwardly when she visibly jumped and dropped her hands.
"What are you doing?" she asked. There was a hint of panic in her words, but whether she was afraid of him seeing her so weak or of him, he had no idea. And that frightened him.
"Looking for you," Woody replied gently, sitting on the bed and sliding over to sit behind her. His hand found her back, rubbing in calming circles. Silence was thick around them, broken only by the steady patter of rain against the large windows and Jordan's catching breaths. Her body shook under his hand as she slowly started to quiet.
She was in a strange spot, stuck between knowing exactly what she wanted and actually keeping it. Making it work. She meant every word she said on the mountain after the crash, but she had no idea where to go after that; she'd never gotten beyond that point with anyone. This sense of intense confusion left her feeling lost and rather alone. She wanted Woody to hold her and comfort her and whisper sweet nothings into her ear, but was at a loss for how to make it happen. How to make him understand how badly she needed him.
"I'm so sorry, Woody," Jordan suddenly stammered, the tears surfacing again to spill down her cheeks. He stared at her, not quite understanding what was going on. "I'm trying s-so hard to ch-change." She squeezed her eyes closed, refusing to look at him even as he put an arm over her shoulders. "But I don't know if I c-can."
She felt all of the hope she'd had before slip away. Every single person she had ever felt connected to had left her in some shape or form, and she didn't know how to make any relationship really last. What she had with Woody…it was so much different than anything else she had ever had with anyone else, and it scared the hell out of her.
Woody watched her, could feel her trembling increase with each passing second. "Let me help you," he pleaded, not willing to let her retreat again. "You are not going to run away from me. Not this time." Flashes of her seizure in the morgue and other scattered memories of all the times she had almost lost her life burst into his mind. Before he could stop himself – before he realized that he might scare her away – he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back into his chest. His heart nearly stopped when Jordan struggled against him for a brief moment.
"Please…" He put a hand on her forehead, gently holding her still as he offered her what comfort he could. "Tell me what to do to help you."
All the fight left her body at his words and Jordan let herself fall limply against him. She was burning on the inside, conflicted and terrified. Years of hardwired responses tried to kick into action: run, leave, go home, shut off. And suddenly she felt the weight of the last few weeks heavy on her shoulders. She was breaking and didn't know how to hold herself together anymore.
"Everything is different now," she gasped through hitching breaths.
"What do you mean?" Woody knew she was withdrawing and he was grasping at straws to get her to open up again. He was just as terrified as she was and wanted her to understand that. "Talk to me. Please, Jordan. Please, please talk to me."
She shuddered against him and sank deeper into his embrace, finally giving in. The warmth of his body was so inviting, so reassuring…but the words he wanted to hear were still lost between her brain and her tongue. "I'm scared…" was all she was able to get out.
There were so many questions Woody wanted answered, but she had stopped struggling. And he would take that. It was a start, one he wasn't going to take for granted. Those two words – I'm scared – spoke of such depth. He recognized that she had been thrown violently out of the world she had come to know; her illness had changed everything, and then things had just snowballed far beyond her control. It might take a while for her to figure out how to express that to him, or to anyone...including herself.
"It's okay, Jo," he whispered into her hair, slowly moving sideways with her so he could lean against the headboard. Maybe taking her away from work and distractions wasn't the best idea after all…
"Don't leave me, Woody."
The breathless plea was almost humorous, considering he was afraid that she would leave him, but he nodded anyway. "I'm not going anywhere." He settled his grip around her and relaxed, trying to get comfortable. It was going to be a long night.
