Disclaimer: I do not own Crossing Jordan, nor do I own 'Time after Time.' by Cyndi Lauper
Woody got up, he had to go on, go to work. Each day was becoming increasingly harder to live, to breath. Since his conversation with Tiffany, he had contemplated more about ending his suffering than he had ever. She moved on, she had a new life, and had forgotten about her old life, her husband, her daughter. Forgetting him was one thing, but their daughter, he would never allow. She would not be forgotten. He had said goodbye to life so long ago, yet it stuck with him, like a broken record, telling him to go home, he didn't belong here. But the only problem was, he didn't have anywhere else to go.
Home had no place for him, no room, he would be a nomad forever, despritely seeking shelter from the cold and ice. As he dressed for work, neat as a pin, as always Dress shirt, tie, jacket. He stared at himself in the full length mirror, he tried to remember her, the scent of her hair. It smelled like baby shampoo, all soft and zesty at the same time. He closed his eyes and it was as if the scent filled the room. And when he opened his eyes, slowly, he could see her there, smiling up at him.
"Hi daddy!" she said with enthusiasm.
"Hey Princess, what are you doing?" he said faintly, brushing a blonde bang out of her eyes.
"Helping you get dressed silly." She stated, climbing up onto the bed. He remembered now, she used to tie his tie for him, every morning, with a giggle and a grin.
"That's impossible... you've gone away." He whispered "You've gone away..." he whispered again, his voice lowering an octave.
A part of him wanted to believe she was there, another thought he was losing his mind completely. She was dead, she wasn't coming back. He shut his eyes tight and when he opened them again she was gone, and the room was empty.
He looked at himself one more time in the mirror, his tie hung loose around his neck. He hadn't tied it yet, that was her job.
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When he stepped into the precinct he made his usual rounds, got his coffee, said his hello's. To everyone else, he hadn't changed at all, same amiable detective Hoyt. That was all he'd ever be to them, they would only scratch the surface. He sat down at his desk, his refuge, his redemption. Sticky notes were stuck to his computer monitor. Papers strewn across his desk, right where he left them the night before. He sighed, trying to make sense of the clutter. Slowly he began to type up his report for the Sullivan case, Woman beaten to death in a seedy ally. She was just some hooker, someone tried to rob her, she fought back, but they killed her. It amazed Woody how human life meant nothing to some, nobody cared, she was just some hooker.
One more look around him and he noticed that a window was open. In his entire four years at Boston PD he never once noticed that window. Now bright light swam into the office, washing the entire division in buttery, yellow, morning light.
"Morning Detective." Annie said, passing him by. She just kept walking. The story of his life.
"Morning Annie, how are you." She didn't answer, she was already down the hall, talking to Eddie Winslow.
He blew out the air in his lungs. "Great Woody how are you." He said to himself a little bitterly, jamming a pencil behind his ear, returning to his report.
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Jordan sewed up her last body of the day, man verses car. Peeling off her bloody latex gloves, and letting down her hair. It had been a long night, long day. Lily was outside in the hallway chatting with Garret animatedly. It was almost Thanksgiving, Jordan could almost smell the turkey, stuffing and gravy. She loved Thanksgiving, it was the one holiday besides Christmas that held good memories of her mother.
"Hey Love, you heading out?" Nigel asked, leather jacket on, helmet lodged under his arm.
"Yah, Nigel, let me get changed and I'll walk yah out."
A few minutes later she emerged from the locker room, dressed in a black sweatshirt and jeans. He walked along next to her, arm protectively on her elbow. It was only when they reached the parking lot that Nigel turned to her.
"Love, are you alright, you've barely said three words since we've left." He asked, concern laced his thick English brogue.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just worried about Woody, that's all." She amended, patting him on the arm affectionately.
"What's wrong with Woodrow, he seems kind of a happy bloke to me."
"That's just it, He's too happy, no one is that happy... then last night he opened up to me... and I'm worried about him... that's all."
"What happened?" he asked, stopping her.
"He told me he had a daughter." She said softly, Nigel's eyes widened in surprise.
"Had?"
"She died... God Nige, I'm such an idiot."
"Why?" he had such a confused look to his face, it made Jordan smile. But that ghost of a smile was all he caught.
"For thinking he's so one dimensional."
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Woody waited nervously on his barstool; he hadn't been back here since Max left, in fact, none of them had. Jordan had insisted she didn't want to go back there; she didn't want to see the things he left behind. Then she asked if they could go to the Pouge for dinner the night before, then that morning, truth was he was delighted to be back. This little homey bar was more of a home than anyone would ever know. A place where he could drown his sorrows. Maybe she was gathering herself, preparing a handhold before she came back, now she was ready to open herself up again.
"Hey stranger," a familiar voice said behind him.
"Jordan..." he said, very formally, in surprised her.
"So, have you ordered yet?" she asked casually, sitting down on the barstool to the right of his.
"Nab, I was waiting for you." He said flatly, handing her a menu. Bozz laughed when he saw them, both had there chins resting on their hands, elbows propped up against the bar.
"What's the score?" she asked pointing to the TV.
"4 to 4, in the 14th." He stated, she ordered them two beers and they sat comfortably in there old routine for a long time, just taking in the smell of warm beer and cigarette smoke for the longest time. Before Jordan could stop herself, she was resting her head on Woody's shoulder. 'just like old times.' She thought to herself happily.
Before long the game was over, Boston was going to the series, first time in like a hundred years. Everyone was celebrating, out in the streets. Jordan found herself giggling breathlessly at whatever Woody had said. They had danced some, it had truly been like old times, so perfectly uncomplicated, yet no Devan to complicate it, no sexual tension, no emotional walls. Just them, how it would be in the end, Woody imagined.
"Jordan, Jordan, Come dance with me." He asked as the evening wound down some, people filing out, the dance floor thinning out.
"No, Woody, I'm dead tired, please..." she begged, running a finger down tracing his jaw.
He wasn't taking no for an answer, if he was with her, he forgot all about the pain in his heart, all of the built up emotions threatening to spill over at any moment. He stuck out his bottom lip.
"Alright, its my turn to pick the song though." She stated, sliding herself over the bar to join him at the small, empty dance floor.
"Jordan, make it a slow one." He said softly.
She smiled, and pressed the buttons, holding out her hand for him to take.
Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,
And think of you
Caught up in circles confusion
Is nothing new
Flashback warm nights
Almost left behind
Suitcases of memories,
Time after
Sometimes you picture me
I'm walking too far ahead
You're calling to me, I can't hear
What you've said
Then you say go slow
I fall behind
The second hand unwinds
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
After my picture fades and darkness has
Turned to gray
Watching through windows you're wondering
If I'm OK
Secrets stolen from deep inside
The drum beats out of time
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
You said go slow
I fall behind
The second hand unwinds
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time
When Jordan pulled away, she left Woody standing alone and confused in the middle of the dance floor. She moved to lock up, but she noticed he was standing in the middle of the room, just standing there, this blank look in his eyes. Staring at nothing at all. If she could only know what was running threw his mind.
He could see her again, standing in the corner, a smile that could out light the sun. her demples. He knew she wasn't there, but she kept haunting him, he couldn't help but want her to be real.
"Woody."
She startled him out of his stupor, his head shot up, and his eyes darted around in bewilderment for a moment, but settled on her.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
He swallowed hard, looking to the corner once more.
She was gone.
"Yeah. Come on, let's go."