Disclaimer: I don't own Crossing Jordan... but I think that you guys already knew that.
Note: YAY! Its over this is the final chapter, I loved writing this story, my favorite by far. So I want to thank everyone who reviewed, and for the people who didn't Review, now, LOL, I kid, I kid.
Three weeks later...
"I'm being chased by a physiatrist!" Woody announced as he came barreling threw the double doors marked crypt. Jordan giggled, as he made a speedy exit into trace evidence, before the doors stopped rocking, he came dashed back in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, before racing back inside, she could hear his voice as he tried desperately to hide behind Nigel.
"Say Nige, you got those ballistic I asked for?" he said rather loudly. No sooner had those double doors ceased and had calmed, Doctor Stiles strolled in. Nigel saw the short frame of the doctor and quickly supplied Woody with an understanding alibi.
"Of course I have those prelims for you Woodrow."
"Ballistics'" Woody corrected under his breath.
"Yes those ballistics'." Nigel handed him a file folder, any file folder.
Jordan opened her mouth to speak.
"Save it Jordan, I know your wayward fiancée is in there, I'm waiting." He muttered standing rigidly.
Woody believing our dear Doctor Stiles was out the door, came in, chewing on the inside of his cheek, that man, no matter how much Jordan pushed he couldn't quit.
"Oh, thank you Jo, I thought he was going to actually catch me that time-" Then turning his head mid-sentence caught sight of the short man standing near the doorway; he let out a girlish yelp.
"Doctor Stiles" he said slickly "I was just about to give you a buzz."
"Woody, why don't you join me in the conference room." Woody glared at Jordan; she shrugged her shoulders and returned to the body lying on the cold slab.
Woody took a reluctant seat at the broad table, Doctor Stiles thumped down into the chair across from him. The morning light spilled into the room, casting a buttery glow throughout the room.
"So Woody I hear about Chief Haralson being forced to resign."
"Yeah." Woody muttered softly, he had been trying unsuccessfully for weeks to avoid the inevitable, having to face the fact that he pulled the trigger on the city's biggest corruption scandal.
"How do you feel about that?" Stiles asked, gauging Woody's response.
"Bad..." Woody whispered, his fingers fidgeting nervously against the cool wood of the table. "Bad." He repeated.
"Why?" Howard shifted in his chair.
"Because."
"Now Woodrow, because isn't an answer and you know it." Woody smiled sadly, refusing to meet the doctor's eyes.
"She was so young, and she died and I didn't."
"So your guilt ridden." Howard commented
"Nothing gets past you." Woody retorted bitterly.
"Listen Woody, this may not mean much, but, you did the right thing... no one else can get hurt by this... because you had the courage to stand up when no one else would." Those words hit Woody between the eyes, they sounded so familiar.
Later that afternoon, Woody went to the Warf, he leaned against the wooden railing and listened to the sea gulls squeal. He knew why but he didn't want to face it. Images of Jennifer O'Brian, all wrapped up in her black Boston PD sweatshirt and tight fitting jeans, her toffee colored hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Bringing him his coffee as they sat on stakeout, what seemed forever ago.
"You know Hoyt; I have never met a man that eats that much sugar." She announced, climbing into the passenger seat of Woody's car.
"Jennifer, Jennifer, you can never have too much sugar." He preached taking a sip of his coffee, letting the pungent smell of the strong, black liquid sit on the edge of his senses and mix with the smell of fish and salt. Far off the sound of ships making their way in and out of port and the sound of captains yelling out orders to the waiting fisherman hung on the wind.
She stared out the car window, her blue eyes lost as she watched the gulls swoop low and kiss the glassy surface of the sparkling waves.
"Something the matter O'Brian?" she smiled sadly at him, burrowing her hands into the pockets of her worn sweatshirt.
"Have you ever looked where no one else would look? And saw something you would never want to see. But then you knew about it, so you had to do something or else the guilt would drive you insane?" she asked, back then he wasn't sure what she had meant; now he knew all too well.
"Well there was that thing with my cousin Nick..." he joked, but her eyes, they looked so... sorrowful. "What's the matter?" he asked, watching her carefully as a lone tear rolled down her cheek.
"After my first day on the job." She stated, looking down at her scalding cup of coffee, watching the steam rise from the paper cup, the heat burning her hand. "I came home crying, I didn't think I was cut out for it... I got a domestic abuse call, and I just..." she paused collecting herself. "I asked my mom, how could there be so much evil in the world... do you know what she told me?" Woody listened intently to the young cop that in a few short months would be murdered in a cheap hotel; shot to death with her own gun... blood filling her lungs until she could no longer breathe.
"She told me that evil is a strong word, good and evil can't be measured by humans, that, it's on a spectrum... like light." She paused to wipe a crocodile tear from her soft, young cheek. "Not everyone is born in complete darkness, everyone has some light in them, and the light is always worth fighting for... it's the unobserved, overlooked and the unnoticed that are in danger of falling into the darkness. Sometimes the simple act of observing or listening can alter the lives of so many; you just have to look where no one else will..."
Woody sat up from the railing, and smiled, for the first time in weeks. Slowly he reached into his pocket, and pulled the small, green bottle of Prozac from his coat pocket, he could feel the cold metal of his father's dog tags against his collarbone. Turning the bottle over and rubbing his fingers against the cool plastic, took a deep breath and chucked the small bottle into the sea, he simply didn't need them anymore.
Jordan was sitting on the roof of her building, leaned against the rail, her feet dangling down off of the side. She took in a long swig of beer as she listened to the muted sounds of the city. The bright lights glittering as far as the eye could see.
She heard a noise behind her, she knew it was Woody, she could tell just by how far apart the footsteps were.
"Hey Farm boy." She said as he joined her on the ledge of the eleven story building, carrying his own frosted bottle of beer.
"What is it with you and the nicknames?" he asked good naturedly, smiling, a wide, Woody Hoyt smile.
"What's got you in a good mood huh?" she asked, nudging him in the side playfully.
"Let's see..." he scooted closer to her until he could feel the warmth radiating from her body. "I'm getting married to the woman of my dreams... I'm back on duty, and I got a raise."
"Nice to see you again Hoyt, I was beginning to miss the old Woody. How do you feel?"
"Better, I feel... better." Suddenly his smile slipped, as he watched Jordan take a long sip of her beer. She caught him staring at her, she smiled and winked.
"What?" she leaned her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arm loosely around his waist.
"I was just remembering what a friend once told me... they told me that... it's the unobserved, the overlooked and the unnoticed that are in danger of falling... that someone can alter so many people's lives... just by looking where no one else will."
Her head rose up, he smiled as her forehead rested against his, she wanted to kiss him, but her lips remained only a few inches away.
"Come on... come on... come on..." he pleaded under his breath as her lips finally brushed against his. He pulled her closer to him, deeping the kiss and on cue, just as he did, both of their cell phones began screaming.
"Cavanaugh." She announced, out of breath.
A second later Woody answered his, he was still feeling weak in the knees.
"Hoyt."
She spoke to Garret a few seconds later, trying to hurry, when her cell phone was shut she turned to her soon to be husband.
"Let me guess, the murder on Holiday and Congress?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yep."
"Garret told me the body is in pieces." She said as they began to stumble for the door, leaving their bottles of beer behind.
"Oh, fun... an Easter egg hunt!" he joked happily as the heavy metal door swung closed behind them... leaving the roof silent, as the stars blinked happily above.
End.
Note: Hope you liked it! Because it was hard to write. Love, Jenna