Note: Bet you weren't expecting THAT! Ha-ha, okay well this one, then the last one and that's it.
Woody threw down the rag from his forehead, he tossed and turned restlessly. Cal nervously hit the speed dial. When she picked up the phone, her voice sounded weary.
"Cavanaugh." She answered; He could hear a British man laughing in soft tones, joking with someone.
"Jordan... its Cal." Her heart fell, his voice was so low; she could hear the fear that laced the edges of every word, immediately her chin began to quiver.
"What happened?!" she snapped, shooting up from her seat at her desk. All was quiet on the other line. Cal could no longer hear the happy chortles of that British man.
"His fever is 102, I just took it, I'm trying to talk him into going to the hospital... but he won't go." Cal's voice pleaded with her, asking her to do something, anything.
"Put him on..." after a moment, she could hear Woody arguing with Cal, his voice soft, and yet groggy. What had happened? He was fine when she left for work this morning, he was resting... watching TV, he ate some tomato soup. Somehow as she retracted her memory, trying to remember everything down to what he wore to bed the night before... the way he smiled, they way his hair smelled, for some reason... she committed these to memory for fear one day they would be gone.
"Hello?" Woody whispered his voice dazed and confused.
"Woody baby, you need to get in the car with Cal." She could almost see him shaking his head like a troublesome kid.
"No," he whispered, in all childlikeness. Cal listened to his brother whisper to Jordan, his voice so soft, and almost scared, he shut his eyes and tried to will that weakness away.
"Woody, don't be stubborn... go with Cal." Her voice was slowly rising; she was becoming angry with him.
"No." he repeated mulishly, she could almost lower his head in stubbornness.
"WOODROW HOYT, GET YOUR HICK ASS IN THAT CAR!!" she screamed at him, letting out all of the pent up fear and anger out, she felt a solitary hot tear slipping from behind her eyes.
There was a long pause, like he was stunned she would yell at him in that manner. After a long, indefinable amount of time his voice came back. "No, I don't want to go back to those doctors."
"Woodrow Hoyt... you will go to the hospital, whether I have to put you that car, or you get in on your own, one is easier than the other." Her tone was firm but she was no longer yelling.
"O-Kay," he whispered after a long time, then Cal came back... his voice quivered only slightly.
"I'll meet you at Boston General Emergency room." He said, looking over at his brother who had laid down on the couch and had covered himself with the afghan... and curled up like a child.
"Oh, and Jordan..." he added as an afterthought "Hurry."
Nigel was staring at Jordan, she didn't move, she just looked straight ahead, for moments that seemed centuries. After the initial shock wore down, she was searching around frantically, looking for her purse and car keys.
"Where the fuck are my keys!" she screamed as she looked threw her desk, tears running down her face.
"Love, what's the matter, where is Woodrow?" he asked, truly concerned, Lily and Devan both stood speechless, as Jordan ran out of the office, as fast as she could and even that wasn't fast enough. She slid on the slick linoleum floor, but quickly regained herself, they could only watch as her figure ran down the hall towards the elevator.
Jordan wasn't even breathing, all she could think was Milk, eggs, butter, ice cream, laundry detergent, and she tried to remember her shopping list. Then it hit her, he asked her to marry him... really... and for the first time with Woody, she didn't feel safe, now he was going back to the hospital, not ten minutes later. She pressed the buttons frantically, as she descended from the morgue, Like the chariot bound for hell.
The hospital was lit up like a Christmas tree, all the decorations were taken down, not like the night he was shot, it was cold and dark inside. A stray Florissant light flickered dimly down the hall.
"I'm looking for Woody Hoyt's room." She asked the nurse at the front desk, her eyes pleading for anyone to tell her what was happening.
"Are you his wife?" she asked in an almost condescending tone.
"No," Jordan said on impulse "I'm his fiancée." She couldn't believe what she had said, but it wasn't exactly a lie, was it?
The small redheaded pointed to room 1708; just as she did Cal stepped out.
"Cal!" she screamed running towards him at top speed.
"Jordan, he's okay, apparently he had a reaction to his medicine, they're keeping him over night for observation... he can come home tomorrow." Cal patted her gently on the shoulder and walked to the nearest chair.
Slowly, deliberately she stood out front of the room, in that cold hallway, just thinking. She thought of the last three years, with Woody by her side, never asking for her to be anyone but herself. He was so close, just past that doorway, and somehow she couldn't bring herself to come in. She felt different with him, different from anything she had ever felt. She got these butterflies in her stomach every time she heard his voice what were these feelings, was it love? She reached her hand out, touching the wood of the doorway with her willowy fingers, tears falling down her face. She hadn't trained herself to deal with emotions like these; after wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her gauzy top, and saying a soft prayer, asking God to keep her feet from running, and to keep her heart in one piece.
She picked up her feet, one by one, baby steps; she managed to make her way to the door. Thunder cracked in the distance, so far away, prophecy to the storm that was not so far off. He was asleep, much like the night he was shot. His clear eyes were closed, and his breathing even. She came over to his bed, sitting next to him softly, pushing back his hair from his skin, her hands like ice against his forehead.
"What on earth are you doing woman?" Woody asked, his chapped lips widening into a smile. She jumped, startled by his soft voice.
"Watching you sleep." She whispered, stroking his cheek with her thumb. He was still feverish; she could feel his warm sweat dampening her hand.
"I wasn't asleep... I was thinking." She tucked her feet onto the bed, he scooted over so she could lay next to him. She wrapped her arm around his neck and rested her cheek on the top of his head, his hair soggy with perspiration.
"What were you thinking about?" she asked, half sure of what his answer would be.
"You." He mumbled softly, he could feel her heartbeat, against his back as he rested against her. "You mostly." He corrected himself, "and Jennifer O'Brian..." he let his eyes close, remembering the promising young cop, so full of life, a life cut short.
"What we're you thinking about her for?" she asked, kissing his forehead.
"Nothing." He whispered, "its not important anymore" he smiled up at her, but she sensed his uneasiness in his eyes, the guilt.
"Woody, I wanted to talk to you." She didn't look him in the eye, staring at a nonexistent dot on the wall, trying to swallow all of the fear, her mind screaming 'Run!' but something made her stay, some force told her that in the end, everything was going to be okay.
"What?" he asked, a small trace of panic made his voice sound grave and thick.
"I was thinking about what you said, earlier today... on the phone."
"Jordan... its okay, that was kind of a spur of the-"his voice was cut off by a delicate finger against his lips.
"I would love to marry you Woody." She whispered slowly, her mind slowing to a stop, after all this was Woody, the same Woody that would save the mango in his fruit salad for her, the same Woody that would sing Yellow Submarine at the top of his lungs just to make her laugh. She loved him, and for the first time she wasn't afraid or running. She loved him, everything, the way his hair smelled, the way she felt when they danced, he made things bearable... all because he saw something in a driven M.E. something worth fighting for.
His breath caught in his throat, for some reason, he couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her sweet lips, he just watched her as she looked in his eyes.
"Why would you want to marry me?" his lips joked, but his eyes were serious.
"Because... Three years ago, when you first saw me... you never pushed, but you were never knocked down by my shoves... you stood back and listened, and you slowly but surely wormed your way into my heart, and like it or not your wedged in there pretty damned tight."
Woody was silent as he listen to her speech, as tears filled her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it again quickly.
"What?" she asked softly, holding his hand as he finally found the words to speak.
"You know what I first thought the day I met you, when I was driving home?" he asked, kissing the back of her hand.
"Hmmm" she whispered, waiting for him to answer, something deep and profound.
"God that woman must have terrible taste in ties." She chuckled a little shocked, he smiled as she closed her eyes taking in the smell of sweat and soap from his hair as she rested her cheek on his head.
After a long, comfortable silence, he whispered, all of a sudden scared. "I don't have a ring."
"I don't need a ring Wood, I don't." she reassured him, rubbing his chest in soft soothing circles, lulling him to sleep. And soon she felt the familiar feeling of aching tired tug at her eyes, and she too felt under sleeps spell, next to her soon to be husband, with her soft cheek resting on the top of his head, and her arm draped over his shoulder, they slept completely without fear.
They never noticed the frame of the man standing in the doorway, his body darkened by the bright lights behind him. Listening softly to the voices of his brother and his soon to be sister in law and for only a moment felt a stab of jealously. He desperately wanted to find that one person that one that completes you, Woody had found that after years of pining, it couldn't be that hard could it? He smiled as another crack of thunder racked the sky, maybe it was his time to grow up and find her, maybe she was right in front of him.
He looked around for anyone; the young, pretty redheaded nurse was sitting at the station, filling out paperwork. He slowly wiped his sweaty hands on his pant legs.
"Hey how you doin'" he asked, after all something's never change.
Note: One more after this, please R&R I live off of reviews, got to give me something to gnaw on, I have no life
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