Woody's POV
I watched the snow threw the iron bars, my own personal prison. Alyssa was my best friend; I struggled to remember her laugh. Jordan was curled up on my shoulder, her hot breath tickling my neck. Flashes of recollections shot across my memory, walking by the lake, when we were little skipping stones on the glassy water of a stagnant pond. The small things I used to think of as childish, now didn't seem so stupid. I had never told anyone of Alyssa, of her legacy that left a deep wound inside me that was raw and sore.
Three years after Alyssa died, the whole thing with Annie happened and I found myself in Boston. Things are different here, faster; I sighed and put away my emotions for another time. Jordan rustled softly, rolling over to fit snugger in my arms. How had this happen? This morning I had been at her throat, now, it was like she was a china plate, and I couldn't move her or touch her for fear she would shatter. "What are you looking at?" Jordan asked, rolling back over, settling down deeper, she was snuggled up against me, her body wrapped up in my coat, I was freezing, but I tried not to let her see it. She looked at me puzzled for a moment then leaned upward for a kiss, I obliged. "So farm boy, what's the first thing your going to do when we get outta here?" she asked her voice groggy. "Well, I am going down to the Pouge and getting the biggest glass of whiskey imaginable to man." I chuckled, "how about you?" "I am going to take a hot, hot, bath, and eat a big plate of French fries." She wrapped her arms tighter around me, her body warm against mine.
Then the door jolted suddenly, and a grey, crinkled old man in a janitor jumpsuit appeared like an angel from heaven. "Oh thank god," Jordan yelled startling the man. "Who the hell are you?" he asked staunchly "Oh, I am Detective Hoyt, Boston PD and this is Doctor Cavanaugh with the ME's office, we've been kinda stuck in here for the passed..." I paused looked at my watch. "Five hours, the door got stuck..." he gave a full throated laugh, "it wasn't stuck... I locked it," Jordan and I shared a skeptically look, I stared at him with disbelief "Wh... why would you lock it?" "The British feller paid me Twenty bucks to lock the door, so I lock the door." "What British-"I looked at Jordan and cursed to myself "NIGEL!" she screamed in frustration. "When I get a hold of that lousy good for nothing..." I laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Calm down, lets go talk to Nigel, then you can yell," I walked up the narrow steps holding her hand; I led her out to the land of the living.
When we marched into the Morgue he was right wear we left him, at his computer typing away. "Hello Nigel," Jordan said wickedly with a malevolent little grin "Hi yah Jordan, I was just trying to call you." She laid a willowy hand on him forcefully. "Guess where I was?" he was trying to play it off, he knew that we knew though. "I dunno," he looked at me for help "we were stuck in the basement, the door wouldn't move, five hours in a crusty room, with a crusty toilet and a hundred years worth of dust," "how'd you get out?" He asked innocently "oh," I added, "The Janitor Melvin let us out, told us the door wasn't jammed." "It wasn't?" beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. "No he said that a real tall British fellow gave him twenty bucks to lock it, Jo, how many real tall British fellows do you know?" I asked looking to her, "only one," with this she blew up at him, lunging unceremoniously over an unoccupied autopsy slab. "I am going to dismember you up and throw you piece by piece into Boston Harbor!" she grabbed the lapels of his starched, white jacket and shook violently, I grabbed her middle lugging her back, I tell you for someone so petite, she sure is strong.
"Well if you Woodrow hadn't started world war three, I wouldn't of had to have gotten creative... dear god with what is it with you two, just shag already, all you two ever do is bicker and whine... Jordan every time he tries to tell you how he feel you shove him away, then he gets mad, and me, bug and the rest, are all stuck in the bloody middle... It's disgusting." With that he picked up a stack of files and stomped out of the room.
"Well, that went rather well," I whispered under my breath. Jordan looked at his departing figure and sighed heavily, when she turned back to me she had a far off look glazed in her eyes "He's right, I just run people over don't I?" I relaxed, "Jordan Cavanaugh, you're driven, sometimes you hurt innocent pedestrians that get in the way sometimes, but you never intentionally hurt the one's you love... and it's never to late to start over," I was hoping she knew what I meant, she smiled, tears welling in her soft eyes, she sauntered over, picked up my hand and pressed a kiss in the palm.
"Will you help me?" she looked in my eyes, pleading for something, anything. "yeah-"she smiled.
"I wasn't finished"
"Finish," I said softly
"Will you help me, start over, put all of this behind me?" I grabbed her, firmly but gently, snow fell outside in clumps, people made there way threw the town, shops were all lit up. Bars were filled with people as music played mutely as the graceful wind carried it away, the salty sea air danced threw the lit up skyscrapers that seemed endless. Funny, when this day began Kewanee was the place I wanted to be, with family, my mom and dad and cal, people I trusted. Now, Kewanee was the last thing on my mind.
"Jordan, if you asked me to help you dig to china with a spoon, I'd do it, if it meant I would be with you." She seemed satisfied, nestling close to me for warmth, wrapping an arm around me, she chuckled.
"Come on Cowboy I know this place where we can get shnockered for free"
Then I knew, I could be in Kewanee, LA, the farthest reaches of the world, with all the riches that I could ever dream of, none of it would matter. Without Jordan, it was nothing... I was nothing, Boston was home now weather I liked it or not, and you know what... for the first time in four years... I was fine with being here.
END
Sorry, my muse ran out and I just wanted to move on to the next story, maybe I'll write a sequel or something later on. Anyways I hope you all like it, and forgive the grammar errors; I'm not the best at that, so I'll be on the next story then.
Jenna
I watched the snow threw the iron bars, my own personal prison. Alyssa was my best friend; I struggled to remember her laugh. Jordan was curled up on my shoulder, her hot breath tickling my neck. Flashes of recollections shot across my memory, walking by the lake, when we were little skipping stones on the glassy water of a stagnant pond. The small things I used to think of as childish, now didn't seem so stupid. I had never told anyone of Alyssa, of her legacy that left a deep wound inside me that was raw and sore.
Three years after Alyssa died, the whole thing with Annie happened and I found myself in Boston. Things are different here, faster; I sighed and put away my emotions for another time. Jordan rustled softly, rolling over to fit snugger in my arms. How had this happen? This morning I had been at her throat, now, it was like she was a china plate, and I couldn't move her or touch her for fear she would shatter. "What are you looking at?" Jordan asked, rolling back over, settling down deeper, she was snuggled up against me, her body wrapped up in my coat, I was freezing, but I tried not to let her see it. She looked at me puzzled for a moment then leaned upward for a kiss, I obliged. "So farm boy, what's the first thing your going to do when we get outta here?" she asked her voice groggy. "Well, I am going down to the Pouge and getting the biggest glass of whiskey imaginable to man." I chuckled, "how about you?" "I am going to take a hot, hot, bath, and eat a big plate of French fries." She wrapped her arms tighter around me, her body warm against mine.
Then the door jolted suddenly, and a grey, crinkled old man in a janitor jumpsuit appeared like an angel from heaven. "Oh thank god," Jordan yelled startling the man. "Who the hell are you?" he asked staunchly "Oh, I am Detective Hoyt, Boston PD and this is Doctor Cavanaugh with the ME's office, we've been kinda stuck in here for the passed..." I paused looked at my watch. "Five hours, the door got stuck..." he gave a full throated laugh, "it wasn't stuck... I locked it," Jordan and I shared a skeptically look, I stared at him with disbelief "Wh... why would you lock it?" "The British feller paid me Twenty bucks to lock the door, so I lock the door." "What British-"I looked at Jordan and cursed to myself "NIGEL!" she screamed in frustration. "When I get a hold of that lousy good for nothing..." I laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Calm down, lets go talk to Nigel, then you can yell," I walked up the narrow steps holding her hand; I led her out to the land of the living.
When we marched into the Morgue he was right wear we left him, at his computer typing away. "Hello Nigel," Jordan said wickedly with a malevolent little grin "Hi yah Jordan, I was just trying to call you." She laid a willowy hand on him forcefully. "Guess where I was?" he was trying to play it off, he knew that we knew though. "I dunno," he looked at me for help "we were stuck in the basement, the door wouldn't move, five hours in a crusty room, with a crusty toilet and a hundred years worth of dust," "how'd you get out?" He asked innocently "oh," I added, "The Janitor Melvin let us out, told us the door wasn't jammed." "It wasn't?" beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. "No he said that a real tall British fellow gave him twenty bucks to lock it, Jo, how many real tall British fellows do you know?" I asked looking to her, "only one," with this she blew up at him, lunging unceremoniously over an unoccupied autopsy slab. "I am going to dismember you up and throw you piece by piece into Boston Harbor!" she grabbed the lapels of his starched, white jacket and shook violently, I grabbed her middle lugging her back, I tell you for someone so petite, she sure is strong.
"Well if you Woodrow hadn't started world war three, I wouldn't of had to have gotten creative... dear god with what is it with you two, just shag already, all you two ever do is bicker and whine... Jordan every time he tries to tell you how he feel you shove him away, then he gets mad, and me, bug and the rest, are all stuck in the bloody middle... It's disgusting." With that he picked up a stack of files and stomped out of the room.
"Well, that went rather well," I whispered under my breath. Jordan looked at his departing figure and sighed heavily, when she turned back to me she had a far off look glazed in her eyes "He's right, I just run people over don't I?" I relaxed, "Jordan Cavanaugh, you're driven, sometimes you hurt innocent pedestrians that get in the way sometimes, but you never intentionally hurt the one's you love... and it's never to late to start over," I was hoping she knew what I meant, she smiled, tears welling in her soft eyes, she sauntered over, picked up my hand and pressed a kiss in the palm.
"Will you help me?" she looked in my eyes, pleading for something, anything. "yeah-"she smiled.
"I wasn't finished"
"Finish," I said softly
"Will you help me, start over, put all of this behind me?" I grabbed her, firmly but gently, snow fell outside in clumps, people made there way threw the town, shops were all lit up. Bars were filled with people as music played mutely as the graceful wind carried it away, the salty sea air danced threw the lit up skyscrapers that seemed endless. Funny, when this day began Kewanee was the place I wanted to be, with family, my mom and dad and cal, people I trusted. Now, Kewanee was the last thing on my mind.
"Jordan, if you asked me to help you dig to china with a spoon, I'd do it, if it meant I would be with you." She seemed satisfied, nestling close to me for warmth, wrapping an arm around me, she chuckled.
"Come on Cowboy I know this place where we can get shnockered for free"
Then I knew, I could be in Kewanee, LA, the farthest reaches of the world, with all the riches that I could ever dream of, none of it would matter. Without Jordan, it was nothing... I was nothing, Boston was home now weather I liked it or not, and you know what... for the first time in four years... I was fine with being here.
END
Sorry, my muse ran out and I just wanted to move on to the next story, maybe I'll write a sequel or something later on. Anyways I hope you all like it, and forgive the grammar errors; I'm not the best at that, so I'll be on the next story then.
Jenna