A/N: here it is... THE LAST CHAPTER! yay! yup, the story is finally complete, so read what's left and tell me what you think:):)

Chapter 4

"Jordaaan!" Woody's yell came hardly a second before the two shots fired from his gun, both of which hit their target squarely in the chest causing the man's knife to drop from his hand a second before he fell to his knees, blood dripping lazily from his mouth. Woody dashed to the edge of the fire-escape floor, looking fearfully down at the parking lot bellow to behold… nothing. His heart sped up with hope that was not wasted when he looked up to see that Jordan had managed to twist around when she fell and was now dangling from the killer's landing by her fingers. Woody wanted to cry in happiness: she was alive.

"Jordan!" He started climbing the ladders, as fast as he dared with his legs as weak as they were feeling right then.

"Woody! Woody, I can't hold on!" she cried, desperately trying to keep a firm grip on her lifeline. Catching herself on the metal platform in mid-fall had been almost impossible and had hurt a great deal, and now, having all of her weight being held by her hands was not any easier or hurting any less.

"I'm coming Jordan! Just hang in there! I'm coming right up! Almost there, just don't let go!"

"Easy for you to say," she said, meekly attempting a joke with humour that had long since been drained out of her.

Wood was halfway through smiling and only two stories from her when he looked up, freezing instantly, his mouth suddenly very dry. The man had somehow managed to drag himself to his feet, barely alive, and had stumbled towards where Jordan still hung. Looking down, he noticed Woody watching him, and smiled, lifting one foot up while balancing himself on the railing. Woody started jumping two rungs at a time, and the foot came down, with surprising force for a dying man, on Jordan's fingers. She screamed in agony at the sickening crunch, but miraculously kept her hold, if but barely. Woody had already re-drawn his gun and now let another bullet fly, and again it hit its target, this time resulting in loss of balance that sent the already dead murderer falling off the edge, barely missing Jordan on his way down to the pavement.

Ignoring the gut-churning thump, Woody raced up the last few rungs to Jordan's landing, crawling to where she still gripped the edge. He couldn't help but gape briefly at her already black and purple fingers as he leaned over to get a clear reach to grab hold of her and pull her up.

"Jordan," he said, reaching for her. She turned her face up to look at him through cascading tears of pain, but managed a weak smile non-the less that he tried to return to the best of his ability. Hooking his hands under her arms and careful not to kneel on her fingers, he slowly and painstakingly pulled her up, his own tired and aching muscles screaming in protest to the strain as he spoke through gritted teeth. "I got you. I got you. It's okay now, it's all over," he said, and finally pulled the rest of her onto the metal floor. Sitting up against the building's side, he hugged her to himself, partly to comfort her, but also to reassure himself that she had in fact survived all this, that he hadn't been too late or too slow to save her. "Are you alright?" He knew the question was a ridiculous one but felt he had to say something, afraid to voice the other things he was thinking about.

"My fingers hurt," came the choked reply. Looking down, Woody carefully took hold of both wrists, apologizing excessively when Jordan grimaced, tears still pouring down her face. For a long moment, Woody was silent and Jordan smiled meekly and shook her head lightly. "You don't have to not tell me; I'm a doctor – I know broken fingers when I see them," she said between gasps of pain. Smiling sheepishly, Woody replaced her hands in her lap, retracting his own, and sat back from her awkwardly in the long stretching silence. In the distance, they could hear approaching sirens that could only belong to squad cars. Jordan looked up.

"I guess my neighbours finally got tired of all the noise and called the cops."

"Actually, I called them," said Woody quietly, still looking off in the direction of the sirens, "before I went back to your apartment." She stared up at him now in curiosity.

"That reminds me, how did you know to come back, and how did you know to call them?" Woody's gaze shifted down to his hands.

"I looked out the window at the end of your hall and saw the car that was stolen today parked on the curb outside. The driver's door was still open, and call it a hunch, but I had a feeling that it wasn't a coincidence." Jordan laughed quietly for a moment before once more falling silent, the only sounds filling the air being the police sirens that grew louder by the second. Woody broke the silence with a sigh. "I guess we should probably get you down from here and to a hospital," he said, moving to stand. Jordan stopped by placing her hand gingerly on his arm.

"Wait," she said, looking up at him. "I need to tell you something." He hesitated only for a second before sitting back against the wall, looking at her with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"What is it?" For a second she couldn't find her voice, leaving Woody shocked; to his knowledge, Jordan never had a problem speaking her mind – to his knowledge. Finally she spoke, stumbling over a few of her words, leaving him even more surprised.

"I – The reason I took the ring later is because I wanted it and what it represented between us so much but I – I was afraid of being let down of – of having my heart broken again." Her voice kept cracking and wavering and she didn't like it at all. She sounded like a twelve-year old telling her crush that she liked the sweater he was wearing.

To her immense relief, his expression softened and he took her hands carefully in his, avoiding touching her fingers.

"Jordan, you know I would never do that to you." A small smile gradually found its way to her lips. "When I thought I'd lost you, it was almost too much," he whispered.

"Now I know for sure." Smiling the smile that she had come to love, Woody reached forward with one hand to gently brush hair and tears from her cheek. Jordan brought the palm of her hand to the back of his head, making him wince involuntarily.

"How's your head?" she whispered, concern taking over her eyes.

"It's seen better days," he joked, though his eyes still squinted against the splitting headache that was becoming more and more intense due to the several hits his head had taken.

"I'll take care of that for you. I don't trust hospitals." She smiled the smile that he adored and returned readily.

"I love you." Jordan moved closer.

"I love you too."

The kiss lasted until the paramedics, who had gone with the police to Jordan's address, tired of waiting and finally climbed out of her kitchen window and up to them to bring them down to the waiting ambulances.

The second that he got off the phone with the doctor treating Jordan and Woody at the hospital, Garett raced out of his office, taking an elevator straight down to the parking garage in the basement. He almost ran right into Lily and Nigel who had just come back to the office with a late supper since they had missed it while searching for the escaped serial killer.

"Geeze! Garett, what's the hurry?" asked Lily as she picked up one of the bags of Chinese food he'd made her drop. "The cops said they caught our guy – a little dead, but he's in custody. You should be staying here to celebrate with us over some fried rice," she said cheerfully.

"Well, we won't be eating until Jordan and Woody get back. I left messages on both their machines, which they should be getting soon since the two of them did leave to drive her home," said Nigel, trying to balance the stack of Chinese food boxes in his arms. Garett looked seriously at them both, whose smiles slowly faded.

"Garett, what's wrong?" Lily's expression told that she was expecting the worst.

"It has to do with Jordan and Woody. They had a little run-in with the deceased perp and –"

"Oh my God, Garett, how bad is it? Are they okay? What happened? Where –"

"Lily! Lily it's okay! Calm down a little and let me finish, alright?" Nodding stiffly, she remained silent but kept her wide, worried eyes on his.

"Right, here's what happened, and let me finish before you say anything or ask any questions: Woody followed Jordan to her apartment and searched most of it before leaving, but the guy was in Jordan's kitchen and attacked her when he left." If it were possible, Lily's eyes widened even further, and Nigel's jaw dropped in shock, but they kept their word and remained silent. "The details are still a little sketchy, but as far as I know, the three of them had quite the skirmish, leaving the bad guy very dead, Woody with a few cuts and bruises, some bumps on the head, maybe a concussion, and Jordan with some scratches and – and every finger except her thumbs broken." Lilly was now an ashen colour and Nigel had somehow managed to balance his boxes in one arm, placing the other one around Lily's shoulders in comfort, looking pretty dazed himself. "I was just on my way to the hospital now to check up on them. Before you ask, yes, you two should tag along, and bring the Chinese with you; something tells me these two haven't had time to get something to eat yet." Continuing to his car, he called over his shoulder to the still stunned pair. "You can both ride with me. We can get the rest of the story from them. Let's go!"

Within a minute, the three had piled into Garette's car and had sped off towards Baltimore General Hospital.

Due to the absurdly terrible traffic, it was almost 10:00 p.m. by the time they raced into the nearly empty emergency room with their food bags and boxes swaying dangerously. Striding up to the counter, Garetter flashed his ID at the only nurse present.

"Garette Macy, Head ME at Baltimore medical center – could you tell me which examination rooms Detective Woodrow Hoyt and Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh are being treated in?" The nurse looked at his ID and then at him in awe as though the man the young nurse trainee was talking to was an FBI agent.

"Um – D-Detective Woodrow Hoyt and Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh?" she repeated.

"Yes. Which room are they in?"

"Um, the Detective is in room 310, and Dr. Cavanaugh is in room 315, just d-down t-that way," she said, pointing them down the hall to their left. They sped off, Nigel calling a 'thank you' out to her over his shoulder as they went.

Garette was walking right past room 310 when Lily stopped him.

"Garette, shouldn't we stop in to see how Woody's doing?" Garette was about to answer when she stopped him. "I know you're worried about Jordan, but she'd not going anywhere – she's being taken care of. And besides," she said, when he tried to object again, "he's probably the reason why we're visiting her in a hospital room instead of the morgue." That did it.

Shamefacedly and without another word, Garette opened the door to room 310 and walked in – to find the room empty besides a few slightly bloody dressings on the table. Pausing only briefly, Garette turned and walked out of the room and, on a hunch, made his way over to 315. With Lily and Nigel beside him, he opened the door wide enough for them to see in, smiling lightly at what they saw: asleep sitting up against the wall with an icepack pinned behind his head was Woody, and sound asleep against his chest with his arm draped around her was Jordan, her bruising fingers taped into braces and her hands carefully placed in Woody's lap. They looked so peaceful that Garet turned away, quietly closing the door.

"We'll let them sleep a little longer," he said, still smiling. The three nodded and, smiling broadly, set aside some food for the sleeping couple before helping themselves to a little Chinese.

THE END

A/N: well, there it is! i just couldn't resist putting in a little more woody-jordan, cause that's how it should be! i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. please review, cause i'm already starting my next crossing jordan fanfic and would like to hear how my very first was received:)