Chapter title: mirror images of dreams long since faded

Jordan swerved to a stop in front of the bar, barefooted and clad in only a black spaghetti strap shirt and tight jean Capri's. The cold hardwood floor made her wince, it stuck to her bare feet, it was freezing cold. Jordan had just realized she had absolutely nothing to wear. She searched desperately for Lily, finding her at the bar with Bug and Peter.

"I need you... and you." She said grabbing Peter and Lily's hands, as an afterthought and looking at Bug added. "... You might as well come to." She winked at him flirtatiously.

"What's going on?" Lily asked as she was rushed to the elevator and shoed in.

"I have nothing to wear." She said simply

"So, what you're wearing looks fine." Peter said, looking her over once. Jordan shook her head and mumbled 'pig' under her breath.

"For tonight, I have nothing to wear."

"What's going on tonight?" Bug asked with a slight hedge to his voice. "Something I should have been informed about?"

"No." Jordan stated huffily. "I have nothing to wear; Woody's taking me out to dinner to talk about this mess all of you made." Jordan looked pointedly at all three of them, Lily blanched, shamefaced.

"Whoa, that is an occasion; your husband is taking you out to dinner." Peter retorted sarcastically.

"He is not my husband!" Jordan shouted flicking him in the middle of the forehead with force; he rubbed the red mark that surfaced on his head.

"Really?" Lily asked raising an eyebrow. "I know you remember are bet, he has to be for three weeks." Jordan suddenly filled with anger, and shame. While Woody had no recollection of that night, Jordan did, but she never backed down from a challenge, it wasn't in her nature.

Just before tears spilled down her face, the doors parted, and she was walking quickly down the spacious hallway, Lily struggling to catch up the thin figure walking hastily down the hall.

"Jordan!" tears spilled down her face as she picked up speed, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort, "Jordan!" Lily's voice came again, stopping her in her tracks, she whirled around.

"He doesn't remember a damned thing! I'm going to hurt him... and I can't stop myself!!"

she slid to the floor, holding on to her ankles and bringing her knees to herself, as if shielding her self from the cold, world. Hiding from that ten year old girl, wandering in a world that had no place for motherless children, hiding from a blue eyed Detective that haunted her dreams, often she found herself wondering if he was real, wishing that somehow this life was a dream and she'd wake up, safe in bed, and her mother would be fine, and she'd come in and tell her everything would be okay and that everything was still safe and warm. She couldn't shake the fact that it wasn't a dream. She felt her head being lifted, and Lily sliding underneath her, till Jordan's head rested in her lap, and lily stroked her hair and told her that Woody would never leave her, it wasn't possible... none of them were leaving, not Woody or Garret, Bug or Nigel or Peter, and most of all not herself. She could trust them. Jordan just sobbed into Lily's pant legs, soaking them through.

Woody gazed at the house, more of a shack really, toys strewed the barren yard, and the periwinkle paint was chipped, the stairs we're rickety and weak. Far off, a dog barked and someone honked a horn. He knocked, trying in vain to swallow the lump that had gathered in his throat. Pain like this was tangible, real, he could almost hold it in is hand. Often it almost seemed the recollection of it was worse than the experience, at least the experience ended.

A young woman answered, she was dressed in a purple uniform.

"May I help you?" she asked politely

"Yes ma'am I'm Detective Woody Hoyt." He caught himself before he could say 'and this is Jordan Cavanaugh from the Medical Examiner's Office.' Her eyes grew wide before she broadened the doorway to allow him to come in. The house was relatively clean, besides a few dishes in the sink and some toys on the floor; the carpet was tan and vacuumed. It reminded him of his house on Kensington Avenue in Kewaunee, all sweet smelling, small but clean and safe. His mom had just gotten a job as a waitress, Woody and Cal we're in school, and for the first time in their lives things we're going right.

And then he was back. Willing to reconcile, Woody tried to tell her, but she wouldn't listen, she was convinced that her boys needed their father. And that was when it happened, Woody had come home late, he had been at his friend Billy's house watching T.V. Woody's mom had just gotten off of work, and it was raining so hard... Woody's father had his mother in his grip, pinning her against the white wall, blood pouring from her nose, the soft underbelly of her eyes we're dark and purple. Her blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as her breath was being choked from her throat, his hands tightening around her pale neck, he was so large, and he didn't even need both hands. Woody didn't know what she did to bring this on in him, but he knew it wasn't much. That's when he picked up the baseball bat...

"Detective?!" the woman raised her hand in front of his hand blankly.

"Sorry."

"That's okay, would you like a cup of coffee?" she offered, already pulling out a mug for him.

He hesitated, remembering the last thing time he had taken a beverage from a witness. "No thanks." He said with a hedge in his voice.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess your here about Tommy, Colleen called me last night."

"Yes ma'am, did your husband have any enemy's?"

"Besides me... no, he only ever hit me."

"Did... he... ever, hit your daughter?" Woody said softly, gauging her reaction by cocking his head slightly.

"you listen to me, HE NEVER TOUCHED KELSEY! If he did I would have kicked his ass out." It amazed Woody that this woman was still defending her husband. "anyways he was cleaning himself up... he only ever hit me when he was drunk and he was going to AA, he was taking Kelsey to her band practice... she plays the flute.... She's not great at it though." She said proudly... after a moment she whispered "we were finally going to be a family again." And suddenly tears filled her eyes. "But then I found out about... about... about that freak social worker, his name is Carlson, if anyone killed my husband it was him." She stated matter- of- factly.

"Why?"

"I caught him, he hadn't done anything, I caught him before he could hurt her... and he threatened me... My husband was going to tell him, I couldn't... he told me if I did, he would take away my food stamps, my allotment, I got a DUI when I was eighteen, if he told them I would have Kelsey taken away." Woody's breath caught in his throat. He stood, and shook the woman's hand.

"I promise I'm going to find who did this, they'll pay." He tipped his head respectfully as she opened the door for him, he almost ran smack into a small child, long honey colored hair, and bright blue eyes... he had to help her, if it was the last thing he did. In the meantime, he had to go get changed, he had a date with Jordan.