"Woody, wake up," Jordan said, shaking him gently, but firmly. "Please wake up, it's important."

"Whatsa matter?" Woody sleepily replied. Realizing it was Jordan, he sat up. "Your head…?"

"No, my head is fine. I need to talk to you."

"What is it, Jo?"

"I want to know. What is it that I'm afraid to remember? What is it that makes me want to know the truth so badly?"

"You know I can't tell you that. You've got to remember that part yourself."

Jordan sat down on the couch beside him. "But I want to know. I didn't before. I didn't care if I ever remembered or not. But now I want to. I want to know. You know what it is, don't you?"

Woody gently cupped Jordan's face with one of his hands, lifting it up to his. "Yeah, sweetie, I know. I know all too well."

"Then tell me, please. Please, Woody. I really want to know." Tears were welling up in her eyes.

'Lord, how can I resist those honey colored eyes filled with tears?' Woody wondered. He nearly lost his resolve when he saw one stream down her cheek. "Damn," he said. Almost roughly, he pulled her to him and held her close. "It's going to be okay. You'll remember."

Jordan was sobbing now. "What if I don't? What if I can't ? What if it's too late and I never regain my memory?"

Woody held her as her sobs wracked her body. This was the hardest thing he had ever done. Now he knew how Jordan felt when he was going through the Montgomery case. "You will Jo, you will, " he kept repeating, trying to calm her down.

"But I can't. No matter how hard I try, the memories won't come."

"Hey," he said, gently pushing her back, so he could look at her. Softly, he traced his thumbs under her eyes, wiping away the tears. "Today was the first day. Give Dr. Stiles time. Give yourself time." He held her until he felt her sobs subside and her breathing return to just a shaky state. "Come here. Let's get you cleaned up and back in bed."

Woody took her by the hand and pulled her up from the couch. He led her to the bathroom, where he carefully washed her face with a warm, damp wash cloth. After drying it, he asked, "Feel better?"

Jordan looked up at him, into those blue eyes that seemed to hold her soul and future captive. "Yeah, but Wood…."

Woody signed inwardly. He hoped she wasn't going to ask him any more questions about her past. "What, Jo?"

"I….I…..really don't want to be alone tonight. Could you stay with me?"

"That, I can do."

Jordan went and got in the bed and Woody climbed in on the other side. He had never been in her bed before, despite all the ribbing that the other detectives and the morgue staff gave him. He and Jordan were close, but not that close. She curled up on her side, and he curled up against her, spooning her small body. A few minutes later, she flipped over on her back, looking him in the eye. She reached up and stroked her hand down his face. "Woody, what if I can't remember us? What we did….where we were at in the relationship?"

Woody put his hand over hers to stop her stroking. "You'll remember, Jo."

"But what if I don't? What if I don't remember this?" And with that said, she reached up and tentatively kissed him.

'Oh sweet Jesus,' Woody thought. 'What am I going to do?' His body was already responding, his lips slowly deepening the kiss. He tried to tell his unruly parts to calms down. It wasn't working. Abruptly, he broke the kiss off.

"We can't Jo."

"Why … "

"We just can't."

"But haven't we before … "The look in his eyes answered her questions. They may have kissed, they may have even been close. But they hadn't made love – at least not yet.

"Oh, Woody, I'm sorry….I just assumed….."

Woody took the hand that had been stroking his face and kissed it. "That's okay. We just hadn't progressed that far in our relationship. You didn't know."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why wasn't our relationship that far yet? We've known each other several years. Why? How long had we dated? Is there something wrong with me?"

Woody closed his eyes for a brief moment. He didn't feel comfortable answering these questions without Dr. Stiles here. She deserved an answer, but he didn't want to hurt her. Taking a deep breath, he began. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Not one thing. In fact, I've always thought you were the hottest woman on God's earth."

Jordan could feel herself blush. Woody felt the heat from her cheeks against his skin.

"It's just like I've told you before. You're afraid of getting hurt or hurting someone else. So you made us keep a wall up between us – remaining a little more than friends, but not quite lovers, either."

"And you've stayed with me?"

"Though thick," he said, kissing her hand again, "and thin."

"How frustrating…"

Woody chuckled. "Why would you say it was frustrating? You've always seemed pretty comfortable with it."

Jordan shook her head. "It's like we were just staying in one place all the time, though, right?"

Woody nodded. "I figured one day you'd realize that you could trust me and we'd move on from there."

"You must be a very patient person."

Woody caught his breath. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that no, it wasn't patience that kept him by her side no matter what. It was love. He had loved her almost from the first moment he met her. And because of that he was willing to wait for however long it took her to trust him. But that would be too much for Jordan. She didn't need all of that tonight, no matter how much she wanted the truth about the past. She needed time to adjust gradually.

"Patience has very little to do with it, Jordan. Some things are just worth waiting for. I am waiting for you to come to me and tell me you're ready."

"What if I told you I think I'm ready now?"

Woody smiled sadly. He gathered her to him and held her tightly. He didn't want it this way, and when and if she regained her memory,he knew she wouldn't want it this way, either. Hell, she may not even have wanted it at all.

"No, Jo."

"No? Why…I thought you were waiting on me to tell you…."

Woody pulled back from her and tilted her chin up so she was looking him in the eyes. "No, not like this. It's not that I don't want you – I think that's pretty obvious already. It's just that I want you to really understand what you're doing, what you're committing to. And your past, our past, factors a lot into this. So, we can't, not until your memory comes back."

"But what if it never does? What then?" Jordan's voice had lowered to a soft whisper. The words were catching in her throat again.

Woody hugged her tighter, to reassure her. "I'm sure it will, Jo."

"But what if it doesn't? Will you leave me?" She buried her head in his neck.

Woody felt her tears. 'Damn,' he thought. 'Stiles is right. This is as hard on us as it is on her.' "Jordan, look at me." She slowly raised her head and looked him in the eyes. "Jordan, I will never leave you. I promised you I won't. I'll always be here for you."

"But what if I can't remember … "

"Shhh……" Woody snuggled her back down against him. "Don't worry about that right now. You remember what you said to me at the Pogue the other night? About feeling safe with me?"

He could feel Jordan nod.

"Then just go with that. Feel safe and secure with me right now. I'm not going to let anything or anyone hurt you. You're at the safest place on earth right now. So relax and go to sleep."

"Okay."

Woody rubbed her back until he felt the tension leave her shoulders and her body relax. Her breath had stopped catching on the sobs and returned to normal. Soon she was breathing deeply and was sound asleep. Woody looked into her face and brushed her hair off her forehead with his fingers. Jordan may not have a headache tonight, but he was getting a hell of one. Closing his eyes and settling her against him, he fell asleep.

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

Two days later, Jordan was in her office going through some old files, when Dr. Stiles entered the room. "Are you ready?" he asked her. They were supposed to talk with Nigel today.

Jordan sighed and looked him. The day before yesterday, she had talked with Bug. So far, that had been the easiest. Bug had told her she was a driven person, pursuing the truth of a case, but no more driven than he was. He also told her that she had pulled his rear out of trouble a couple of times and for that, he was grateful. He said that he had enjoyed working with her and had learned a lot from her.

So Jordan surmised that Bug was probably the one person in her life she had not run roughshod over. Either he wouldn't let her, or she never tried for whatever reason. For that fact, she was thankful. Maybe she wasn't all bad. In some ways, Bug seemed as vulnerable as she did.

Garrett came next. That had been the hardest so far. It took Garrett a good two hours to just get through what brought her to the morgue in the first place. She was going to be a cardiologist. She had been a hard-working resident who turned in one of the leading cardiologists in the nation for putting a shunt in a weak artery. Kicked out of the residency program, she had tried, either knowingly or unknowingly, to commit suicide. Garrett offered her a job at the morgue. "I thought you'd liven the place up a bit," he said. "I was right."

"You do pursue the truth of a case," he had told her. "You care more, give more, and hell, enjoy this work more than anyone I know. I can understand why you do what you do the way you do," he had chuckled then. "If I didn't, the DA would have had your ass out of here a long time ago.

"You have one bad habit, as far as I'm concerned, Jordan."

"What's that?" she had asked.

"When you're scared, or you feel like you can't handle something, you run – and I mean run away."

"I do?"

"Yeah, you've run to LA, Denver, Atlanta, Chicago…"

Jordan tried to remember….nothing came. 'I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"Since you came back from LA the last time, you've stayed put. You've tried to deal with … with … the trouble that life has brought you in a way that I find admirable, even if sometimes it gets you in trouble.

"I understand you because you've talked with me more than almost any other person. You once said that I gave you a chance when no one else would. You called me your 'bestest girlfriend'. We're close, Jordan, and I don't want to lose that relationship or you for anything."

He had stood then and walked over to where she was sitting. Kneeling down in front of her, he had put both his hands on her upper arms. Close to tears himself, he had said "I love you like a little sister, Jordan. And I want you back – the old Jordan. I want you to regain your memory and come back to me, the way you used to be." He had hugged her then.

Jordan wasn't quite sure what to do. It was obvious that the place Garrett had held in her life was a big one and that they both cared for each other a great deal. She had a feeling he was the one who called her on the carpet when she screwed up, but would turn a blind eye when she was trying to bring closure for the family of a case she was working on. She knew, down inside, that they were cut from the same cloth – she and Garrett were more alike than different.

After that, she had gone home for the day. She was simply too drained to work. When Woody came home, she was already in bed, asleep. It wasn't until early, very early, the next morning, the day caught up with her. She awoke to her head pounding. She could almost hear the throbbing in her ears. Quietly, she had gotten out of bed and gone to the kitchen to take her medicine, trying not to wake up Woody. She knew he meant well, but she didn't want to talk with him right now. Truth be known, she needed time alone. If she had been this close to Garrett, how much harder was it going to be with Nigel? And she didn't even want to think about Woody.

So she had gone back to her room to wait out sunrise. Once it became reasonably light outside, she had dressed and left, telling Woody she needed to get in early to the office that morning. Instead she had gone to the park across the street from Dr. Stiles office, not too far from the morgue. She had sat there for hours, thinking.

The truth was, images were coming back to her. But for the life of her, she couldn't figure out if they were real or her imagination. Memories, or at least what she thought were her memories, were coming back, tying together like a strand of yarn in a long skein. She thought she remembered the snow storm when Garrett and Peter were so sick. She remembered being at the Pogue with Lily, scoping out men. She remembered dancing with Woody there. She remembered Nigel and a motorcycle. But were these images real? She had no way of telling.

"Jordan?" Dr. Stiles asked. "Are you okay? You seem a million miles away. If you're too tired to do this, we can do it tomorrow."

"Ummm, no. I'm ready. I was just reading through some old files."

"Trying to remember?"

"Yeah…."

"Any luck?"

"I remember my cases….it's just other things that I can't."

"It will come. Are you ready?"

Jordan and Dr. Stiles went into Nigel's office. The tall Englishman looked paler than usual. Nigel wasn't looking forward to this anymore than Jordan was.

"Hello, love," he had greeted her.

It had gone downhill from there.

Nigel told her that working with her was a real blast, a trip, even. But he also had reiterated what Peter and Lily had said. She would run roughshod over anyone to get what she wanted in the pursuit of truth. And that included him, and he was her best friend. She would use him for computer searches, finding evidence, withholding evidence, whatever she needed him for.

Almost in tears, she had asked, "Then why did you remain my friend, why did you keep doing all that for me?"

"Because, love, I understand where you're coming from. I know where your heart is and it's in the right place. And I know, that once you've found the truth that you're searching for in your own life, you'll settle down.

You've been there for me, too, Jordan. It's like that here…we're a family."

If the morgue was a family, Jordan felt like she was the dysfunctional child.

In the end, Nigel had hugged her and told her that he loved her, and like Garrett, he wanted her back – the old Jordan.

"Don't let any of this deter you," he had said. "The old Jordan was a hell of a woman. A good woman. One that I admire and love, very much."

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

Making her way back to her office, Jordan laid down on the couch. She was utterly and completely drained. She couldn't talk with Woody tomorrow…she just couldn't. If she had done this to other people, what had she done to Woody? She didn't think she wanted to know.

She was tired. Tired of talking. She just wanted her past back. She knew that unless it came back to her, she was doomed to stay in this void….not really being herself, and not knowing what true self was. Maybe this was her last relentless pursuit of truth. Finding out who she really was, and living with that fact and her past.

No one, not a soul, had mentioned what made her be so passionate about finding out the truth. Nigel, Garrett, and Woody had alluded to it, but never directly mentioned it. That was the part she needed to remember on her own. That was the real missing piece of the puzzle of her life. And when she remembered that, she had a feeling that the rest of these images, memories, would make a lot more sense. Her head began to throb again.

She heard voices in the hall. She knew they were Dr. Stiles, Garrett, Woody, and Nigel. Nigel was excited. With the door to her office closed, she couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but from the tone of Nigel's voice, he was happy about something. She heard him tell Garrett he had found something…or was it someone? She wasn't sure. Her head was hurting too badly for her to know. It was hurting worse than it ever had before, even the night at her apartment when she fainted. She felt like she was going to pass out again. She got up from the couch, she had to let someone know.

How she got to her door and got it opened, she never knew. She was gripping the door when Woody caught sight of her.

"Jordan!"

When she came to, she was back in her office on her couch. Garrett, Nigel, Woody, and Dr. Stiles were gathered around her. "How are you, sweetie?" Woody asked. He was holding her hand tightly.

Truth was, Jordan didn't really know. Before she passed out, she saw something. It was red.

Turning to Dr. Stiles, she said, "I think my memory is trying to come back…."