"I should remember anyone with eyes that blue,' thought Jordan, as she watched Woody and Garret talk before Garrett had to leave to go to work. She knew, under her skin, that she was the topic of the conversation. Woody kept glancing back over at her. She knew what Garrett was telling him – when to make sure she took her medicine, about the headaches, making sure she turned in at a reasonable hour…..she felt like a three year-old. Finally, Garrett got in his car and left and Woody ambled into the house.

"Hi, Jo," he said, greeting her with a gentle hug. "How's it going today?"

"It's good to be out of the hospital."

Woody laughed. "I bet. I know the food there was just great," he said sarcastically. "How about we order pizza later? I brought one of your favorite movies to watch."

Jordan threw him a quizzical look as he thrust the DVD in her hand. "The Princess Bride?" she asked.

'Yeah, you're a closet romantic, whether you want to admit it or not. Let me get changed and we'll order the pizza and watch the movie."

A few minutes later Woody emerged from the bedroom in jeans and a sweatshirt. Picking up the phone, he asked, "The works?" Jordan looked confused for only a moment.

'Oh, yeah – everything except anchovies."

Woody grinned. "That was nice," he thought, as he dialed the number, "She remembered how she liked her pizza. Maybe her memory is coming back." When the pizza arrived, Woody pulled a beer for himself out of Garrett's refrigerator and handed Jordan a Diet Coke. "No alcohol for you, young lady, at least not until your off your meds."

Jordan grinned as she and Woody settled down on the couch to watch the move. She couldn't believe she actually had liked The Princess Bride. And although she couldn't remember much about Woody, it seemed as if in the past they had a good relationship – close one. Maybe one that was a little more than friendship? She didn't know…and she'd hate to jump the gun and ask and then be embarrassed.

Woody grabbed the remote and fast forwarded through the opening credits. The scene opened up with Buttercup on her horse, riding back to the barn. Jordan was only half paying attention, as she was busily eating her pizza. Suddenly the phrase "Farm Boy" caught her attention.

"Stop," she asked Woody. "Back that up."

Woody did as she asked, and watched her carefully. "Back it up again," she said. Finally, after watching the scene three times, she whispered. "Farm boy. That sounds so familiar."

Trying to be as casual as possible, Woody sat up and said, "Well, you've seen the movie at least a hundred times."

"No, no. It's not that. I've used that phrase before…"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I have. I used to call somebody that all the time," Jordan wracked her brain. "Was it Nigel or Peter or Bug or…no, wait a minute…it was you," She turned around and looked at Woody. "I called you Farm Boy, didn't I?" She was nearly gloating over her one, tiny regained memory.

Woody grinned. "Yeah, you do…you call me Farm Boy a lot – even though I didn't grow up on farm. I'm from Wisconsin and you just automatically thought everyone that lived in Wisconsin were cheese farmers or something."

They both were sitting on the couch, watching the movie. Woody's arm was thrown casually over the back of the couch, not really around Jordan's shoulders, but close enough that her hair was falling on his arm and his hand rested just centimeters away from her shoulder. For the first time in weeks, Jordan felt relaxed and secure – like nothing could hurt her. She wondered if she had felt this way about him before the accident. Taking a deep breath, she decided to try to clear up one end of her cloudy memories.

"Ummmm, say Woody, were you my really my Farm Boy? I mean, did I go around barking orders at you and expect you to do what I said?"

Woody leaned his head on the back of the couch and laughed. "In a way, yes. You will go after the truth with the tenacity of a pitbull. Nothing stands in your way. And if I can do something to help you get to the truth, you will ask me to help. It's not exactly an order, you're too charming for that, but I know you mean business."

Jordan looked down. She thought that description didn't exactly put her in the most pleasant light. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't think I meant to order you around, but if I did, I'm sorry."

Woody caught her chin in his hand, raising her eyes to his. "No, don't apologize, Jor. It's been fun. You make it fun. I can't imagine doing anything else with anybody else."

Knowing that this was an open door, Jordan asked, "Woody, were we more than just friends before my accident?"

Woody sighed. Releasing her chin, he turned the TV off and took both of her hands in one of his. He had always thought her hands were so tiny. It gave her an air of fragility. They always felt so right in his larger one – like a hand in a glove. "Jordan, I've always told you and everyone else, that you are my best friend, and you are. Only for me, it's gone a little deeper than that. But you…you… on the other hand, weren't so sure, even though you made the first move on me."

"I did?"

"Yeah. We were in California working on a case together – well, actually, I was on the case and I had told you to stay home. But remember when I said what you were like when you were searching for the truth? You followed me out there and we solved the case together. During the process, however, our car broke down and we were stranded in the desert. You kissed me while we were out there and then I asked you to kiss me again before we left to come home, and you did."

"Oh…then what happened?" Jordan figured they had started dating and then broke up, but remained friends.

"Well, you decided that we shouldn't do that anymore – just go back to being friends and co-workers. So we did in a way. But it was never the same after that. I think we both knew we felt something deeper than just a friendship. So I've always said you were my best friend, and you…well, you called me for anything you needed – help with a case, Starbucks, someone to hold you when a bad thunderstorm comes up."

"I'm scared of storms?"

Woody chuckled. "Just a little."

"So after I kissed you, I just gave you the brush off?"

"No, no, Jordan, not like that. It was like you put up a wall. You said you didn't want me to get hurt."

'There it is,' thought Jordan. 'The wall….the one that I feel I can't get over in order to remember.' She honestly was going to have to take Woody at face value on the information he had just given her. She couldn't remember anything, and she'd give her right arm to remember the kiss. But the wall…the wall in her memory wouldn't come down and let her. Suddenly her head began to throb viciously. Her hands flew to her temples.

"What is it Jord? Your head, do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No, it's just these headaches I have since the accident. They really hurt. I need my medicine." She made to get up off the couch and go get it, but Woody beat her to it.

"Sit still," he said. "I'll get it for you."

He came back with the pills and watched her take them. Afterwards, he pulled her against him and lay down with her on the couch, gently wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back.

"I must have been crazy," said a sleepy Jordan, feeling very safe, secure, and warm in his arms.

"What do you mean?" asked Woody.

"To tell you to back off….Did I ever change my mind?"

Woody snuggled her closer. Memory or no memory, she still felt like Jordan and he could feel the effect it was taking on his body. "I don't know, Jordan. If you did, you haven't told me yet."

Soon, her deep even breathing told him that she was asleep. Woody checked his watch. Garrett still wouldn't be home for several hours. Reaching for a throw on the back of the couch, Woody pulled it over the both of them and settled down to hold Jordan while she slept. If being with her brought back one old memory, maybe holding her while she slept would leave her with a pleasant new one.

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

Woody woke to the feeling of someone shaking him awake. It was Garrett. Gently easing himself from around Jordan so she wouldn't wake up, he stood and made his way to the kitchen, where Garrett was motioning for him to follow.

"How's she doing?" Garrett asked.

"Good. She's better. I purposely made her watch The Princess Bride with me tonight and she remembered that she used to call me Farm Boy."

Garrett grinned. An unprompted memory. That was good news.

"Then she asked questions about me and her."

"Sticky situation, huh?"

"Not too bad. But she had one of her headaches tonight. I gave her the meds, and then she fell asleep."

"Yeah, the doctor said the headaches were a typical part of the healing process, but they should get better as time goes by."

"I'll help get her to bed now and then I'm heading back to my apartment and get ready for work."

Woody went back into the living room while Garrett went into Jordan's bedroom to pull down the sheets. Looking at her face, Woody couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret. Regret that he didn't really tell her how he felt tonight, but he was afraid those emotions may be too much for her to handle right now. Regret that her father wasn't here to help take care of her. Regret that this was just one more bad hand that life had dealt her. He ran his fingers softly down her cheek and then scooped her up in his arms. As if by instinct, her arms found his neck. He carried her into the bedroom and carefully laid her down on the bed. Jordan murmured a faint protest when he released her, but buried her head deep in a pillow and was soon sound asleep again. He pulled the bed covers snugly around her and left, shutting the door behind him.

"Go home and get some rest, Woody. I'll take care of her now. I plan on letting her sleep in tomorrow and then taking her with me to work. I want to see if she remembers anything about being a medical examiner."

"What if she doesn't?"

Garrett sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. That was one of his worse nightmares – what if she didn't remember any of her years of training? "I don't know. I haven't figured that part out yet. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."