Disclaimer: Okay, so they're not mine I'm not making any money off of them.
Summary: What happens when Jordan's actions have repercussions? How will she react and what will she do?
Note: This is my first fan fic so help me, reviews will be greatly appreciated and I might add more if I receive comments. Enjoy! Thanks to those who have sent email, I apologize about this one being so short but I didn't have the time to lengthen it.
Recap
"What's wrong?"
Never have a relationship with a cop, or anyone who can follow you when all you need is to be away from them to wallow in self-pity and doubt.
"Nothing," I lied and catching his disbelieving look I smile my best 'my day's filled with nothing but sunshine and daises' smile, which was completely unbelievable due to my red puffy eyes and running mascara, yet another reason I hate to cry.
"Jordan," he began in the 'my patience is wearing really thin' tone.
"She's pregnant," Dad told him, looking challengingly at poor Woody who looked like Dad had just introduced him to an extra -terrestrial.
"Thanks Dad," I glare at him.
"Jordan?" Woody turned to me his eyes full of disbelief and shock. "That's not funny."
"You're telling me," I told him. Hell I was scared shitless and spoiling for a fight.
"Who's the f-" Woody began but was cut off by a look from my father. "But how- oh my God."
Chapter 2
Woody sat down heavily on the stool next to mine and Dad, after placing a strong drink in front of him shot the 'so what are you going to do about this mess' look in our direction.
"Hey, it could be worse," I started, trying to liven the funeralesque mood that had fallen. When Woody looked at me questioningly I continued, "I don't know how, but it could be."
"You know Jordan, you're not a lot of help right now. I find out that in a few months I'm going to be a father and I don't even remember getting you pregnant," he said wearily. "Am I really the father or just the only guy you think will take credit for this?" he all but spat.
The logical half of my brain registered the fear and panic with which the last half of his statement was delivered with but the emotional and dominant half heard only the painful words.
"Bastard," I replied calmly and tossed my full drink on him before storming out of the bar.
I had walked about a block before he caught up with me, anger fuels many things and my pace is one of them.
"Jordan," he began, grabbing a hold of my hand, which I attempted to extract. "I'm sorry, it's just-"
I glared at him, and in atone that relayed outward calm but was laced with anger and grief "I've made a lot of mistakes but I have to say sleeping with you tops them."
And with this said I walked quickly away leaving him standing stunned.
After walking for fifteen minutes and calming down I realized that my car was still sitting outside Dad's bar and there was no way I could walk either home or to the morgue, at least not in these boots. Reaching the bar and finally driving back to the morgue I was greeted by the suppressed concerned looks of my colleagues who were afraid of sending me into another bout of tears and kept quiet. I hate being pregnant and this emotional roller coaster that comes with being approximately the size of a whale and waddling. Arriving at my office I played the messages, all five being from the one person I wished to avoid for the rest of eternity asking me to meet him for dinner so we could talk. Well, the first two were requests the others were demands. 'Fine,' I decided. 'He wants to talk, we'll talk.'
Summary: What happens when Jordan's actions have repercussions? How will she react and what will she do?
Note: This is my first fan fic so help me, reviews will be greatly appreciated and I might add more if I receive comments. Enjoy! Thanks to those who have sent email, I apologize about this one being so short but I didn't have the time to lengthen it.
Recap
"What's wrong?"
Never have a relationship with a cop, or anyone who can follow you when all you need is to be away from them to wallow in self-pity and doubt.
"Nothing," I lied and catching his disbelieving look I smile my best 'my day's filled with nothing but sunshine and daises' smile, which was completely unbelievable due to my red puffy eyes and running mascara, yet another reason I hate to cry.
"Jordan," he began in the 'my patience is wearing really thin' tone.
"She's pregnant," Dad told him, looking challengingly at poor Woody who looked like Dad had just introduced him to an extra -terrestrial.
"Thanks Dad," I glare at him.
"Jordan?" Woody turned to me his eyes full of disbelief and shock. "That's not funny."
"You're telling me," I told him. Hell I was scared shitless and spoiling for a fight.
"Who's the f-" Woody began but was cut off by a look from my father. "But how- oh my God."
Chapter 2
Woody sat down heavily on the stool next to mine and Dad, after placing a strong drink in front of him shot the 'so what are you going to do about this mess' look in our direction.
"Hey, it could be worse," I started, trying to liven the funeralesque mood that had fallen. When Woody looked at me questioningly I continued, "I don't know how, but it could be."
"You know Jordan, you're not a lot of help right now. I find out that in a few months I'm going to be a father and I don't even remember getting you pregnant," he said wearily. "Am I really the father or just the only guy you think will take credit for this?" he all but spat.
The logical half of my brain registered the fear and panic with which the last half of his statement was delivered with but the emotional and dominant half heard only the painful words.
"Bastard," I replied calmly and tossed my full drink on him before storming out of the bar.
I had walked about a block before he caught up with me, anger fuels many things and my pace is one of them.
"Jordan," he began, grabbing a hold of my hand, which I attempted to extract. "I'm sorry, it's just-"
I glared at him, and in atone that relayed outward calm but was laced with anger and grief "I've made a lot of mistakes but I have to say sleeping with you tops them."
And with this said I walked quickly away leaving him standing stunned.
After walking for fifteen minutes and calming down I realized that my car was still sitting outside Dad's bar and there was no way I could walk either home or to the morgue, at least not in these boots. Reaching the bar and finally driving back to the morgue I was greeted by the suppressed concerned looks of my colleagues who were afraid of sending me into another bout of tears and kept quiet. I hate being pregnant and this emotional roller coaster that comes with being approximately the size of a whale and waddling. Arriving at my office I played the messages, all five being from the one person I wished to avoid for the rest of eternity asking me to meet him for dinner so we could talk. Well, the first two were requests the others were demands. 'Fine,' I decided. 'He wants to talk, we'll talk.'