Woody sat frozen in his chair, his eyes shielded from the glare of the sun. a few files lay disgarded on his empty desk, his computer turned off. A few boxes sat at his feet, he was done packing, but somehow couldn't move.

"Good luck Hoyt." A uniform said as he walked by, slapping Woody on the back.

"Thanks Charlie, give my regards to the Mrs."

"Will do." Woody sighed, feeling like he had swallowed a wrecking ball. In twelve hours he would be on a plane to Philadelphia. While he loved Boston, the smells, the sights, the diversity in cultures, he knew he couldn't stay.

"So you're leaving?" Annie whispered behind him, he whirled around.

"Second time in two days you scared me like that...your going to wind up getting shot." He joked, smiling, he and Annie had become good friends, she was one person he was going to miss.

"Not by you, Mister look before you leap." She teased, sitting in the same spot she had occupied not to long ago. "How you holding up partner?" she asked, playing with the tips of his hair.

"Pretty good, I need to go to my apartment, get a few hours sleep before I head to the morgue and say my goodbyes there..." his voice trailed off, he had prolonged his visit to the morgue, in hopes to miss Jordan. Truth was, since yesterday he had gotten more calls to the morgue than he had ever. Annie, Eddie, almost the entire precinct kept sending him for their files, prelim reports, autopsy reports and the like, but never once did he see Jordan.

"your luck sucks Hoyt, might as well say your goodbye's now, I need you to pick up some Autopsy reports from Doctor Macy for me." Eddie said from behind them somewhere.

"Good luck Hoyt, wish you the best, keep in touch." She hugged him and went about her business. Leaving Woody to sit alone at an empty desk. He shuttered and leaned his elbows on the metal desk, resting his forehead in his hands. Suddenly he had never felt more confused and alone.

Jordan silenced the scream of her alarm by throwing it against the wall, six thirty, time to get up and slice open dead people. She groaned threw clenched teeth as she rolled out from under the covers. She stood in the bathroom for a few seconds, just staring at herself in the mirror, mussed hair, girly boxers and tank top, nothing special. 'Nothing Special' those words couldn't be stilled from her mind no matter what she did.

Begrudgingly she turned on the shower and went into the kitchen to turn on her coffee machine. When she found the number seven blinking on her answering machine, she pressed play and listened as each, just as the one before, was livid with silence. But even it the silence she had a creeping suspicion that it was Woody that left those messages.

The day was as dim as ever, the grey sky a bonnet behind the tall skyscrapers and asphalt jungle that was Boston. Rain hung limp and thick in the air, causing each breath to be labored and difficult. The first person she ran into when the elevator doors parted was Nigel.

"Hey Nige." She said, being as cheerful as possible.

"Love, I hate to be the bearer of bad news..." his voice trailed off, suddenly it felt like all of the air was sucked out of her, not even noticing she had dropped the cup of coffee, the paper cup splattering its hot contents across the linoleum floor.

"What?" she asked, his face was pale, suddenly she was just scared, not even knowing why. "Is it dad?" she asked with dawning horror.

"No love, its not like that... no, no one has been hurt." She sighed in relief.

"Its Woodrow darling, he's been transferred."

"Transferred?" she asked, the words rolling off her tounge as she stared blankly into Nigel's dark eyes. He put a brotherly arm around her and led her to his desk, setting her down softly in his seat. He knelt down, swallowing her hands in his.

"To Philadelphia, I just got off the phone with Annie Capra, he should be up here to say goodbye to everyone in a while." He stroked her cheek tenderly and looked at her, his eyes straining to see that old devilish spark that used to glint in her oak- aged eyes, but never saw the will that used to be there.

"This is all my fault love." He whispered faintly, "For thinking I knew better than fate." Tears fell willingly down her face as she collapsed into Nigel for comfort, he was silent as she sobbed into his shoulder. When she heard a voice behind them she pulled away quickly, wiping her eyes and sniffling.

"I'm sorry, I'm I interrupting?" Peter asked, file in his hand.

"No." Nigel said icily, Peter's shoulders fell, his eyes cast down to the floor.

"Leave him alone Nigel, it's not his fault." Jordan rebuked gently, forcing a smile.

"You're right love, it's not my place to be throwing accusations." He smiled, tucking a gentle finger under her chin once more before he wandered out of the room. Peter gazed at her for a few minutes, his eyes fixed, as if he wanted to say more, but the words just wouldn't come. Finally, after an awkward minute he silently strode from the room.

When Jordan opened her office door all was silent. She craved silence now more than ever, but the peaceful feeling would not last long when she noticed the file sitting on her desk. A man hit by a wonderbread truck she chuckled as she stood, saying to herself softly "Death by breadtruck... lovely." She gathered her coat and purse before she could notice the picture sitting on her desk, disappearing behind the shuffle of strewn papers about her desk.

Lily was gorging herself on powdered donuts in the breakroom when she heard a familiar voice. Instinctively she ran for the door, "Woody!" she shouted after his frame, slowly he turned, seeing Lily with her face covered in powder made him chuckle.

"Having a little breakfast huh?" he asked, a classic Woody Hoyt smile spreading across his face. His infectious smile caused Lily to grin as she wiped away the reminants of powder from her face.

"Yeah, hey, I heard you were leaving... what gives?" she asked, nudging him in the side playfully.

"Just need to leave..." he mumbled softly, "I'm going to miss you though." He whispered smiling though his eyes pained.

"I know you're not going to like to hear this Woody... but I'm going to say it anyways... Be careful." She said with conviction.

"Yes mother." He stated like a spoiled child, she shook her head with affection and embraced him. "don't be a stranger Woody, you're like family to us all."

"Don't Worry Lil, I'll keep the Christmas cards coming."

"Yeah, now get your hands off my woman." Bug stated tersely, but a smile was on his face, he shook Woody's hand strongly.

"Bug its been a pleasure, if I ever need to know how long a cock roach can live without water you're my man."

"Get out of here before you make me cry." Bug laughed, "Oh, and Detective Hoyt, Good luck, you'll need it." Before Woody could inquire on what he had said, he disappeared behind the crypt door.

Woody strode down the hallway, a little less cockily than before, his eyes searching for Garret, finally finding him in the confrance room with the D.A. he knocked softly before entering.

"Doctor M, got a minute? I need to pick up that A.R. for Eddie Winslow." His eyes fell, he would miss Garret as well, he was kind of a father figure to the young detective, though Garret would kill him if he mentioned it. To his surprise it was D.A. Walcott who spoke up first.

"Terribly sorry to hear your going Detective, you have been a great asset to the Boston Police force, and... you will be missed." Her voice strained to say the last half, she had always been mad at Woody for something, especially if it had something to do with Jordan, and it always had something to do with Jordan.

"Thank you Ma'am." He said politely, shaking her hand. Garret handed him the file, shook his hand and wished him the best of luck... but something wasn't right. Woody could feel it in his bones.

As he left the room he ran smack dab into Nigel and Peter.

"Nigel my man, you'll definitely be one of the people I miss when I'm sitting at a bar all alone with a martini, you won't be there to liven things up."

"And you won't be here to charm things up, best of luck Woodrow." They shook hands and parted. Peter remained.

"Pete." Woody held out a hand, "Its been a pleasure, as always."

Peter hesitated before speaking. "I'm sorry Wood. Really, I am." Without accepting the outstreached hand he marched away. Woody ran a hand threw his hair, turning the corner, ran into Devan, dressed in scrubs, hair pulled into a ponytail her nose in an autopsy report.

"God you people are coming out of the woodworks." He declared.

"Hey Woody, heard you were leaving, where too?" she asked

"Philly." He whispered. She nodded, "You're a good friend Hoyt, I'm going to miss getting stuck in elevators with you." He hugged her and she continued down the hallway, but came to a sudden halt and turned on her heels.

"Hey Wood?" he turned to face her.

"Yeah?"

"How are you going to tell Tyler?" that was a daunting task he didn't want to face. He sighed and chewed at the tip of his fingernail.

"I have no clue." He stated, walking away.

Jordan entered her office just before the rain began to pelt down in stinging sheets, she stripped off her soaking, heavy coat before taking a seat in her chair, she was beat tired, having done four autopsy's and done seven drop offs. When Garret entered her office, stern looking as ever.

"Hey Jo, got those Prelims." He asked.

"Yeah right here." She picked up a file, noticing the small piece of paper flutter to the floor.

"To Remember Better Times, Woody."

She picked it up slowly, reading the back first immediately recognizing Woody's handwriting, felt her heart sink, looking at the picture for a long moment, a sense of dread spreading throughout her body, without a word she grabbed her things and shoved her way past Garret, she had to find Woody before it was too late.