Disclaimer: I do not own Crossing Jordan!

The morgue felt bitter cold, the air hung thick and raw in the dimly lighted hallway. Woody stood awkwardly; staring at Jordan threw the clean glass window of her office. She was leaning against the back of her chair, feet propped up on her desk, file in her lap, pen in hand. Her eyes were firmly shut, her breathing even. It was well past midnight, and the halls were stark and barren. He walked ever so softly into her office, brushed a stubborn bang from her eye, immediately she awoke.

"Hey." He smiled weakly; everything he did now seemed weak to Jordan or at least tiresome.

"Hi Cowboy." she whispered, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Boring." She said flatly, setting the file down on her desk. It had been three days since they had danced at the Pouge. They had seen little of each other since, not going out of there way to speak to each other. It seemed a lifetime since Woody had confessed himself to her. Once in a while she'd drive by his apartment, just to see if he was okay. His light would be on, she would maybe see his shadow, nothing more.

"There is never a boring day with you Jo." Woody said, stroking her hair softly. He had been eager to talk to her, but within the past few days she seemed to be avoiding him.

"Jo are you mad at me?" he asked softly, she shook her head.

"Of course not, Woody what would make you think that?"

"It seems like you've been avoiding me... have you?"

"No, it's just." She paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. "I thought you might want some space... that's all." He smiled, unaccountably relieved.

"Good." He stood up and held out his hand. "Then we can go for a walk." He said with a small smile. Jordan swallowed the lump in her throat and took his hand.

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"So tell me what she was like." Jordan persisted as they walked down the paved trail in the park. Night had darkened the world but everything in sight was washed in silver blue moonlight. Jordan held on tightly to her Styrofoam coffee cup, it was a source of warmth, a warmth that was dying with each second.

"Uh, she loved to draw... and be in plays, she loved horses." He looked down and smiled. "When she rode her bike... she let go of her handlebars." He was whispering now, far off in thought. "She like to climb... climb like a monkey, she could climb anything." He laughed, far off in remembrance. "She was filled with life."

Jordan wished she could go back in time and take away Woody's sadness. Just like that, just hold him and make it all go away.

"Woody I'm sorry." She blurted, stopping.

"For what?" he asked, "It's not like it's your fault."

"I know... but I'm just sorry." She whispered, on the verge of tears, she fought them back like crazy. He came over to her, brushing her hair away from her face whispered.

"Jordan, you shouldn't be apologizing, if it weren't for you I probably wouldn't have survived." His blue eyes, how clear they were. Never before had she seen them so lucid, so azure as right then. She grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him near, so she could smell him, feel his body against hers. She held him like that for the longest time, just taking in the way he smelled. After an ageless moment she released him but he didn't let go. Before long she found herself in tears, up against his strong chest, crying for what seemed no reason at all. But deep in her heart she knew the real reason, something that had been in her heart for twenty-five years was falling away, wilting away. She just sobbed and sobbed into his chest, mascara running down her face. She was weeping for the loss of her mother, the loss of her father, she was crying for Woody.

After a long time Woody set her back, looking down into her face, wiped the mascara stained tears from her white cheeks. At that moment, they both realized that they needed each other, as much as Jordan needed him, he need her as much. She stared at him for a long moment before she silently wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him one last time before letting him go, as if with that hug she was wordlessly letting go of her past, starting new.

"I have to go Woody, I have to get up early tomorrow." He nodded silently, taking hold of her elbow protectively began to walk her car. She found herself leaning into him; he wrapped his arm around her softly as she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

They stood at her beaten up El Camino for a long second. After what seemed forever the wind picked up, sending a rush of frigid air past them. Jordan's raven hair flew up, sending the smell of her shampoo rushing past Woody. And as the wind died, something was born, some understanding between the two people standing awkwardly at a car door.

Jordan simply leaned in and kissed him, it was soft and sweet, more comforting than anything else. Purely there lips brushed up together, she had been craving it for so long, that now it just seemed natural. When they broke apart, they looked at each other for a second.

"Goodbye Woody," Jordan whispered softly "I'll see you later." She asked kind of hopefully. He smiled wide, the first hint of a smile she had seen in a long time.

"Of course." He whispered, and then he opened her car door.

For some reason that simple gesture meant more to Jordan than anything else ever could. She smiled and got inside the car, then without looking back, she drove away.

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Jordan's headlight's cut threw the night like a hot knife threw butter, bits of disturbed pollen hung thickly in them like dust in the sun. She wasn't sure why she was going where she was going, but couldn't stop herself. The cemetery only held one memory, her mother. The bitter cold, held deep memories for her, it was on nights like these when she could hear the creaking of the porch steps as she entered that house twenty-five years before. She could feel the icy wind at her back, the way it swirled around in the house that felt so forsaken even though it was congested with people. It had been a long time coming, this feeling of hopelessness that rinsed over her. She ran her She walked, on autopilot to her mothers resting place, a cold grave on a cold night.

Running her hands down the smooth granite, fingering each letter of her mother's name.

Emily Cavanaugh

Dear Wife

Beloved mother

Tears ran down her face, pooling on her cheeks, her chin quivered, she could feel it. She had thought for the longest time that if she let go of her mother's death, she might forget her mother, and that would never happen.

It was when she stood with Woody that night, that letting go didn't mean forgetting, it just meant moving on, and remembering her for what she was, not what she could have been.

"Goodbye Mommy." She whispered, like the child that had lost her mother so long ago. Tears streamed down her face slowly as she turned and walked away. She got halfway to her car, before sobs took over and wracked her body, as she desperately fought not to look behind her, from now on it was only forward, the past was in the past. Her mother might have been gone, but certainly not forgotten.

She couldn't help it, she turned and looked back once, to see her mother once more. The grave was glinting in silver moonlight, a sea of green grass blanketed it, she wasn't cold anymore. Slowly Jordan walked to her car. It would be hard, but she could do it, she had to take baby steps.

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Woody stood in the crowded hallway, his back to the door, as the crowded precinct filled with more people by the second. From time to time he would see Kody, his little girl, in a corner or far off staring at him in the back of a crowd, but he would push her away, out of his mind, somewhere else, far away. He hadn't seen Jordan since the night before when she drove away; he craved to hear her voice, though he would never admit it. How was he supposed to go on, live, if his crutch wasn't here to support him? He thought with a rush of guilt. All he really wanted to do was see her. He found himself thinking of Tiffany of all people. It seemed like forever since he had that conversation with her, argument, he amended, and even that was a generous word for it.

When he heard her voice, he thought it was his imagination.

"Hey Woody." Her Baby voice was as soft as it had been the day they met.

He turned to meet her jade eyes slowly, his breath leaving him momentarily when he saw her. She hadn't changed a bit. She was wearing a simple white spaghetti strap shirt with jeans, a denim jacket hanging from her elbow. Her blonde hair hanging long down to the middle of her back.

"Tiffany, what are you doing?" he asked with disbelief thick in his voice.

"I came to apologize for the way I acted earlier." She said softly, running her hand down his arm.

"You could have done that over the phone." He whispered, a little angry.

"I know, but I wanted to come, to see how you were, you sounded so sad on the phone... I felt it was something that I should do." She cocked her head to the side and took sight of him, his dress shirt was a bit wrinkled, but his tie was tied, jacket and pants pressed and neat. She swallowed hard, it was his emaciated frame that had her concerned. How much weight he had lost! It looked as if she poked him he would fall over. His eyes looked drawn and hallow. She had known that Kody's death had taken a toll on him.

It had taken a toll on her as well, she had tried to kill herself once, but she pulled herself up, moved on, while he stood there, still, staring down at the wreakage of his life, what used to be their life. Not finding comfort anywhere.

He looked down, his chin trembling. "Why Tiff?" he asked softly, she knew he wouldn't cry, even if his voice cracked like it did, not here, not in front of his fellow cops.

"Why what?" she asked, keeping a safe distance from him, an arms length away.

He looked deep into her eyes, for the first time in years, his blue eyes bore into hers.

"Why do you blame me?" it seemed that question had been eating away at him since time was born.

Without a word she brushed the hair out of his face, kissed his cheek softly, and walked away. As he watched her stumble towards the door, he felt a lump gather in his throat. With a falter she turned and looked at him once more before pushing her way threw the throng of people and out the door.