Chapter Eleven

Woody nodded. He couldn't find the words...and there was this lump in his throat he had a hard time dealing with. Meghan launched herself from her sitting position in bed into his arms and hugged him tight. Woody just held her. Breathing in the soft baby shampoo-type scent of her hair – trying to capture seven years of memories in one hug. Finally Meghan broke away. "Where have you been?"

Woody chuckled. She was like Jordan in another aspect. Straight to the point. Cut to the chase. What's the bottom line... "Well...." he started.

Jordan rose slowly from the bed. "I'm going to give you two some time...I'll go make some hot chocolate and be right back."

"Can I have marshmallows in mine?" Meghan asked.

Jordan nodded.

"Amaretto?" Woody asked.

"For sure. A double for yours and mine."

Jordan fixed the hot chocolate and came back upstairs to find Meghan in Woody's lap, listening to his explanation about where he had been.

"So you've been with the President all this time?"

"Most of it."

"Wow...." Meghan thought about it. She had her dad and mom now...something she had always wanted. Although she had never mentioned it to her mother. Whenever she had asked questions about her father, her mother had always seemed so sad. She had promised Meghan that she had tried to find him, but couldn't. Even Uncle Nigel had tried to find him and couldn't. And Uncle Nigel could find anyone. So if her dad was working for the President...and what he was doing was really important and secret....no wonder no one could find him. But her dad was here now...but for how long?

"When...when do you have to go back, Dad?" she asked, absent-mindedly playing with the collar of Woody's shirt.

"I don't," he replied softly, looking over the little girl's head into her mother's eyes. "I've gotten transferred...back to Boston. So I can see you as much as I can. And your, mother, too. As much as she will let me."

Jordan digested this information as she handed Meghan her mug of hot chocolate and then gave Woody his. She gave him a soft smile across the top of their daughter's head. For the first time in weeks, Woody felt hope. It grew from a small, flickering spot in the pit of his stomach to a warmth that washed over his entire body. Fate can be a bitch, he thought, or it can give you back everything you've ever wanted...

Life in Boston was different now for Woody. A lot different than what it had been years before in the city. And much different than it had been in DC. When he was in DC, he had lived in a tiny townhouse in Georgetown. He drove into headquarters each day...now he had a smaller office in the FBI building downtown...right down the street from the Boston PD he used to work at. He had stopped in once or twice to get caught up... and catch hell from Eddie Winslow.

"Why in the hell did you leave a job like that?" Eddie had questioned.

"Priorities, man. Priorities."

"Yeah, but the President..."

"I still talk with him...almost everyday. And I'm flying back and forth. I still have the same job...just a different city."

"Yeah, but you could have moved Jordan and Meghan to DC."

"That was never really an option. Jordan's life is here...her family is here. Meghan is in school and has her friends."

"But still..."

"No. It's like I said. Priorities."

And he meant it. His "girls," as he called them, were his first thought in everything. Meghan had been gracious...eager to let him in on every aspect of her life. Jordan was being a bit more cautious, but was still allowing him access to their daughter...and was open with him. To the point, she had allowed him to move into her guest room until they could sort everything out. It was weird, but at the same time, strangely comforting. He learned the rhythm of his family. And they got to know him in a very familiar environment.

It worked well, until one evening when he came home from work. Opening the front door, he had called out "Honey, I'm home," joking with Jordan, who had emerged from the kitchen from putting up groceries. He still had a hard time dealing with this "domesticated" Jordan...the same girl who would let the contents of her cabinets get down to a pack of crackers and some jelly before she would go to the grocery store when he lived in Boston before, and developed into a great cook.

"Come in and make yourself useful," she had joked back at him. "Hard day, dear?"

He laughed at her. "Yeah...chasing terrorists...talking with the President....same ol' same ol'. What about you?"

"Another day, another body."

"Ohhhhh, I could take that sooooo many ways, Dr. Cavanaugh."

"Yeah....right...."

"Especially if it involved your body...."

"Woody," Jordan had protested, a warning note in her voice. He had flirted with her like a mad man since he moved in the house and now he was backing her up into the cabinets.

"What, Dr. Cavanaugh?" he answered, trapping her between the counter and himself, his arms on either side of her.

"Please ... don't call me Dr. Cavanaugh," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, the joking atmosphere dissipating. Her eyes had grown serious and big in her face.

"Why, Jo?" he asked, leaning his forehead down to meet hers.

"Because....you never used to call me that unless I had done something wrong...or you were upset with me."

Woody remembered. After the Malden thing, he had reverted to calling her Dr. Cavanaugh...even that night at her apartment...even right before he had taken her clothes off and made love to her. It was only then that he had called her Jordan...then Jo...then Sweetheart, mumbling the last name almost incoherently in her ear as they had climaxed together the first time.

"Sorry," he said, removing his arms from the counter to loop them loosely around her waist, his forehead still resting against hers. "Didn't mean to stir up bad memories."

"Not all of the memories are bad, Woody."

"I know...it just seems that towards the end..."

"Before you went back to Kewuanne?"

"Yeah....things got really bad."

Jordan nodded, pulling away at him to look him in the eyes. "But I meant what I said then...who could have predicted Malden? Not you. Not me. Not anyone. I am so sorry Woody. You have no idea how sorry I am...how badly I've felt all these years."

Woody was shocked. What was she apologizing for?

"Jordan," he whispered, "I'm not following you....what are you sorry for, sweetheart?"

She lowered her head, almost ashamed to meet his eyes. His arms were still around her waist, although they had tightened almost imperceptibly. Her hands rested lightly on his arms. "For following all the demons about my mother's murder... for pushing you away... for destroying what we had...what had just started between us...I'm just so sorry," her voice broke and Woody could see the beginning of a tear slide down her cheek.

"Hey," he said, still speaking softly to her, wiping the tear away with the pad of his thumb, "it's not all your fault. You told me that it was okay...that the Malden thing was over, that you didn't blame me. I chose to leave...."

"But I pushed you away...just like I did everyone else. I had no idea that it would make you leave. I took so much for granted....that you would always be there...that eventually it would work out between us...I was so stupid."

He pulled her close then, wrapping his arms around her, feeling the tears on his shirt. He wished he had never called her Dr. Cavanaugh. He had no idea it would illicit this kind of response from her. "Jo...it's okay."

"But if I hadn't pushed you away, you could have been here....all this time...for Meghan."

"And us?" he asked, pulling away and looking down into her honey-colored eyes.

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"So that's what's been bothering you the last few days? Guilt?"

"Yes...."

"Oh, Jo....don't. Don't feel guilty. You did everything you could the best way you knew how."

"But I do...all these years."

"You feel you've deprived Meghan of a father?"

"Yeah, and you and me of some kind of relationship. I don't know if it could have lasted, but I didn't even give us a chance to try."

"We've got now, Jo. Now. I'm in your kitchen and you're here in my arms. And you know what? It feels good. It feels right...It feels like I've never left Boston. And I can't help but wonder if your lips are still as sweet...and you're just as soft..." He tilted her head back and kissed her...not one of those quick pecks they had given each other during the kidnapping...but a full-fledged assault on her senses, opening her mouth and exploring every inch of it with his tongue. And feeling her melt a little more with each passing minute. When he finally drew back, Jordan felt like she was barely standing, holding onto his shoulders for support. Some things never change. His kisses could leave her breathless and senseless. She felt him shift her in his arms...

"Meghan?" he asked, gently trailing his hands up her sides to softly caress the sensitive skin on the back of her neck before he tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling it down from the clip she had it put up in.

"Girl Scout camp this weekend...won't be back until Sunday evening late."

"You're sure?"

"Girl Scouts honor..."

"Remind me to buy a case of cookies from her...." his voice trailed off has he took her in his arms and carried her upstairs. Tonight was Friday. Sunday was two days away. That would give them more than enough time to sort through everything....

He looked down at Jordan, as the early morning light flickered through the bedroom windows. He had made love to her again, like a man possessed...but this time, it had been like they were both trying to make up for eight years....and this time the devil himself couldn't make him leave her bedroom or her bed. He brushed the hair from her eyes and softly kissed her. She stretched and wound her arms around his neck. "What time is it?" she asked, yawning.

"A little after six."

"You working today?"

"No..you?"

She shook her head. "No..."

"Good....so we have time to...."

"We have all day...."

He groaned. All day...

Later, with Jordan cuddled close to him, the sheets pulled across her body, Woody softly asked, "Where do we go from here, Jordan?"

"A shower would be nice."

He lightly cuffed her. "Be serious...then we'll shower."

"I want you in my life again, Woody. I don't know what level you'll be comfortable at....I know you want to be with Meghan..."

"I love you, Jordan. I've never stopped."

Jordan felt like someone had somehow removed all the oxygen from the room. She looked at him... "You've never stopped?"

He shook his head. "That's why it didn't work out with Sandy...I was in love with you."

"Oh...," She swallowed and ran her fingers through his hair. "I've always regretted not telling you that night back in my apartment how I felt...that I loved you...I didn't want you to leave then, Wood. I don't want you to now."

He smiled down at her, capturing her fingers, kissing them, and placing her hand on his chest. "I'm not going anywhere."

She grinned back. "You know Garrett said the other day that he felt fate had brought us back together and wasn't going to let us be apart again."

"Fate?"

"Yeah...Chicago had to be fate...just think of the odds of seeing each other again in Chicago of all places."

"The beginning of a fateful ride, huh?"

"Sometimes fate has a way of giving you things you're not even aware you want."

"Like Meghan?"

"Yeah...her name even means 'precious gift'."

"Really?"

Jordan nodded.

"I know one thing, Dr. C," Woody began, jokingly.

"What's that Detective...I mean Agent Hoyt?" she teased back. Old habits were hard to break.

"I know that I'll take both the gifts that fate has handed back to me...and maybe a few more." His hand rested on Jordan's abdomen.

"Woody?"

"Sorry, Jo. I didn't think to use anything...everything happened so fast."

"You are so bad......You're beginning to make a habit of this."

He grinned down at her, giving her a wicked leer... "A habit fate seems to play a good hand in."