She was settled in, or at least she thought she was. As houses go, it was pretty nice. It was small, but it was secured. And it had secured phone lines so she could call out and use her laptop. The only question she still had was would Woody stay with her or not. So far he hadn't told her.

She wanted him to stay for several reasons. First, she felt safest with Woody. After all they had been through together, she just felt safest with him. It was like he had some sort of invisible antennae that just knew where the bad guys were

Turning away from her desk where she had been setting up her laptop, she knew she had to face the second reason. She really had known it before he stepped up to her at her apartment on Pearle Street that afternoon weeks ago in Boston. She had never really gotten over him. She never really stopped loving him. And she knew at one time, he had loved her, too, but she had put "the wall" up. She didn't want him to get hurt and she didn't want to get hurt, either.

But it had backfired on her. "The wall" had only succeeded in hurting the people she loved and that loved her. It kept them at arm's length. So brick by brick, she had taken down that wall. It had been tremendously painful at times, but the rewards had been so gratifying.

Somehow she had to make Woody know "the wall" was a thing of the past.

Softly walking down the hallway to the kitchen, she saw Woody talking to the other agents. Leaning against the doorway, she waited until he was through. Catching his attention, she motioned for him to follow her to the living room.

"What is it, Jo? What do you need?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. He was still in FBI mode.

"I was just wondering how the set up was."

"I thought we went over that – the house is secured. There's agents posted outside, a full alarm system, secured lines..."

"No, not that. Who's staying with me?"

Woody sighed. This was the hard part for him. "I am, Jo. At least for the next few days, then I have to go back to New York and finish up the case."

Jordan nodded. "Thanks, Wood. I know you're getting tired of babysitting me. Hopefully, it will all be over soon." Jordan turned and walked back into her bedroom. He was back to being the cool, distant FBI agent. She wasn't sure she could get him to stop so that she could talk to him. Sitting down on her bed, she suddenly realized how tired she was. Bone-tired weary. Getting up one more time, she took off her clothes and pulled on Woody's old Boston PD sweatshirt. It was huge on her slim figure, hanging down nearly to her knees. At least he couldn't say this was too sexy. And it kept him close to her, at least in her heart. Curling up on the bed, she dozed off.

======================================================

Woody finished filling in the details of this case with the California agents that would take over watching Jordan while he was in New York. "Damn, how late is it?" he thought. Jordan hadn't eaten, as far as he knew. He walked to her bedroom. The door was shut and the light was off. Peeking in, he saw she was sleep.

On that aspect, he had to agree with her. It had been a long day and he was tired. Pulling off his tie and taking off his belt and shoes, he laid down on the couch. He was too exhausted to make it to his bedroom.

======================================================

Hungry....she was hungry.....her growling stomach woke her, protesting its lack of dinner. She got up and peeked out her door. The kitchen was dark...the agents must have left hours ago and Woody had gone to bed. Quietly, she made her way to the refrigerator.

He had heard her the minute her bedroom door opened. He had sat up on the couch and watched her come across the room to the kitchen. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, but what caught his eye was what she was wearing.

No, thank God it wasn't that nightgown again. He wasn't sure what he would have done if she paraded through the kitchen in that. It was the sweatshirt. His old Boston PD sweatshirt. He had wondered what happened to it. Now he remembered. Why did she still have it? Why had she kept it after all these years? Was she still crazy about him, as Garrett had said?

He had to admit she looked far better in than he ever did. Even sexier than she had been in the nightgown. He swallowed hard. The sweatshirt stopped right above her knees – almost mid-thigh, revealing her long legs. He couldn't stop himself. Stealthily, he had risen from the couch and caught her at the refrigerator.

"What are you up to?" he asked.

Jordan yelped, startled. Where'd he come from? She whirled around to face him. "Dinner....I haven't had dinner yet."

"Me, either."

Scoping out the well-stocked refrigerator, they settled on sandwiches, and once again for Jordan, it seemed like time had stood still. Woody's FBI mask was left somewhere in the living room. Jordan didn't know exactly what made him leave it there, but she was living for the minute. He was her Farm Boy again, at least for one evening.

He was in the middle of telling a joke, smiling at the punch line, when he stopped. "What are you looking at, Jo? You haven't heard a word I said."

"Your smile. I haven't seen you smile since I came to New York." She had literally caught her breath when she saw his dimples again. She ran two fingers down his face. "You look like yourself again."

Woody caught her fingers and raised them to his lips, gently kissing each one. Leaning over to her, he then caught her lips in a soft kiss – a kiss reminiscent of the ones they had shared in Boston, under the stars, after leaving the Pogue and walking her to her car. Innocent, sweet, full of promise. Jordan felt tears gather in the corner of her eyes.

"Jo, don't cry," Woody whispered. "It's okay." He kissed her eyes, tasting the salt of her tears on his lips. "Shh....baby, what's wrong?"

"It's just good to see you acting like..... like....yourself again."

Woody gave her a puzzled look.

"You've been acting like Mr. G-man the entire time I've been in New York."

"Jordan....I am a G-man now."

"But that's not you, Woody. At least not the Woody I used to know."

"Five years has gone by, Jo. I've changed where I live, changed jobs...it's no wonder I'm not like the Woody you used to know."

Jordan nodded. This was her "in" and she knew it.

"I know. A lot has changed and you can't go back and re-live the past."

"No, you can't Jo. You remember the good times, learn from the bad and move on."

Jordan rose from the table and walked over to the sink to put her dishes in it. Woody's eyes had followed her the whole time.

"I've done some changing, too, Wood."

"How so?" He joined her at the sink.

"You know that wall...the one I said we had to put up so that neither one of us would get hurt...the wall that I've kept up all my life because I didn't trust people?"

Woody was very aware of the wall. He had bumped his head on it many times. "Yes."

Jordan took a deep breath and turned to face him. "It's down, Wood. It's gone."

Woody looked in her eyes. Jordan's eyes could mirror a kaleidoscope of emotions and he had learned to read them well – warmth, laughter, concern, fear. In the past, he could tell what she was thinking before she said it, just by looking at her eyes. More than once, when they had been working together, he had pulled her sunglasses off her face just to see if she was telling him the truth or pulling his leg. They were telling him the truth now.

The wall was down.

He should have known. He thought there was a new softness about her. That she showed her affection and emotions more readily. He had observed that while watching her and Garrett together.

The wall was down, and there she was standing in front of him in his old Boston PD sweatshirt, soft and rumpled from sleep, and vulnerable, so very vulnerable to what he was going to say.

What was he going to say? It would be lying to tell her that he didn't still love her. But he had a life in New York now. She was in Massachusetts. She was waiting on an answer...

"That's okay, Woody, I know it's been a long time...I waited too long. I know it. I just wanted you to know..." her voice trailed off as she turned to go back into the bedroom.

And felt his fingers wrap around her wrist and turn her back to him. "Jo, don't go. Not yet. Since we're being completely honest, there are a few things I need to tell you. Can we go sit down and talk?"

Gently guiding her to the living room, he sat both of them down on the couch. Where did he want to begin? He took her hand and began to softly rub it between the two of his. "Jordan, five years is a long time. When I was back in Boston, I had imagined that in five years time, we would have been married, perhaps even started a family," he glanced over to her, to see how she was taking all this in. The family part seemed to have shocked her. Maybe that was something she hadn't considered?

"I never thought that you would take the wall down. I knew your past – probably better than anyone else, except your dad. I knew you had solid reasons for not trusting people. And I couldn't blame you. If I had been through everything that you had, I don't know what I would have done. But I always hoped that, after everything we had been through, you would learn that you could trust at least one person, and that one person is me.

"But the wall stayed up with us. And I knew that our relationship couldn't grow anymore than it did because of that damn wall. That's why I really left Boston. I couldn't deal with wanting to love you like I needed to – and like you needed me to, whether you realized it or not – and you not letting me. That's why I took the job with the FBI and left for Quantico."

Woody paused for a moment glance over at her again. They were sitting, nearly facing each other, knees to knees. Her head was bent, and her chestnut hair was falling forward, hiding her face from him. He continued.

"As hard as it was for me, I tried to start a new life. One with new people, new places, new opportunities. I tried to put Boston behind me. And it worked. There are days, even weeks now, that I don't give the city a thought. But the people there, well, that's a different story. People tend to get inside your head and your heart. They're harder to forget. And after awhile, I realized I didn't want to forget. I wanted to remember a lanky Englishman with an encyclopedic memory. I wanted to remember a balding chief ME that loved his employees and their friends. I wanted to remember an Irish bartender that has the best pub I've ever been in. And most of all, I wanted to remember a woman with honey-colored eyes that had the sweetest lips I've ever kissed." He reached out and gently lifted her face so that she was looking him in the eyes. "And ever since you've been in New York, all I've wanted to do is hold you," he moved over and gently pulled her into his arms. "And kiss you," he softly kissed the part of her cheek next to her mouth. "And tell you that I've not stopped loving you," he ran his fingers down the side of her face. "I've fought it the whole time you've been here. So tell me Dr. Cavanaugh, do we still have a chance, or am I going to fall on my ass again?"

Jordan could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh yes, Woody. I never stopped loving you. It took your leaving to get me to see I needed to take the wall down. It's not too late, not if you still want a relationship, if you still want me..."

Jordan got no further. Woody pulled her into his lap and held her tightly. The minutes just hung as they stayed that way. Pulling back a little so he could see her face, Woody kissed her. When he finally released her, it was only to turn his attention to that spot behind her ear that made her knees buckle and her breath catch. She began to toy with the buttons on his shirt, slowly undoing them, then pressing a trail of kisses along his collarbone. Woody gently slid his hand up her leg and thigh, stopping to rest on her bottom. Her bare bottom, he noted. He groaned as he realized she was wearing a thong. He needed to get her somewhere else, realizing that the agents watching outside may be observing more than they bargained for. Scooping her up, he rose. "Ummm, your room?" he asked, not sure what he would do if she said no.

"Sounds like a good plan, G-man."