Jordan sat on the slick floor, her chin resting on her knees. Woody was in front of her, she could see the back of his head and a suit clad shoulder threw the throng of people. The tension and desperation seemed to crackle through the entire room, the men paced nervously.

"Uh, Ollie, what are we supposed to do now?" the man with the shotgun asked, the leader, who was smaller than his counterparts glared at him through the ski mask.

"Damnit Sam, now they know are names!!!" the leader hissed, Jordan had to bite her lip to prevent from laughing. Slowly, the leader pulled the ski mask up over his face, Jordan was surprised at how young he looked, his dark hair was profuse and thick, deep, chocolate eyes set deep into his skull, skin was unnaturally white. "Okay Folks, we promise this won't take to long… just stick tight and we'll get you outta here soon enough." He paced back and forth nervously for a minute.

"Okay, I want everybody to get in this corner over here… watch yourself." He helped a middle aged woman to her feet. Jordan and Woody shared a look, she wanted to laugh at the way Woody raised his eyebrow at the short little leader.

"Alright… I'm gonna go over here and talk to Sam, if any of you move, I will have to kill someone, I don't wanna do that, I'm catholic, I don't wanna shoot nobody." He walked over to whisper in the others ear.

Jordan leaned into Woody, relishing in having an excuse to lean in and remember the familiar scent of his cologne. "Woody." Her voice cracked to her horror. He wrapped a strong arm around her back, no words were spoken, none were needed.

"I need a drink." The middle aged woman spouted, leaning against the refrigerator door. Jordan took in the other hostages. The middle aged woman, a young Spanish gentleman, a kid and his girlfriend and a man, woman and their little girl. The little girl's eyes were wide with fear as she clutched to a worn teddy bear. Jordan smiled at her, the little girl smiled back.

"Okay folks here's how its gonna go… were gonna hang out here for awhile." His voice became antsy as a squad car pulled up, a navy colored Sudan close behind it. "Uh oh, Damnit, cops are here!" he ducked behind the counter. Woody perked up, he could see Shiloh, her face damp with rain. Suddenly a shot rang out, everyone ducked. Jordan laid herself flat on the floor, the middle aged woman cursed under her breath. Jordan's breath caught in her throat.

"Damn it Sam!!!" the stout leader screamed at his thick headed partner, smacking him upside the head. Woody watched as Shiloh and the other cop scrambled for cover.

"Sorry Boss." Sam choked. Ollie, as Sam called the leader, patted Sam on the back.

"Hey, Charlie, where the hell did you get this dude?" Ollie stammered to the third man who had been quietly assessing the situation from where he stood, shot gun in hand.

"I'm just winging it like you said Ollie!" Sam countered.

"Alright wing-nut, stay by Charlie… give me your gun, Sam, you are lucky you're a lousy shot." He snapped, yanking the gun out of Sam's hand. "Sorry folks, looks like we'll be here for awhile, make yourselves comfortable." Jordan groaned, sitting up.

Woody looked at her with liquid eyes. "You alright." Something about the way he said that sickened her. Peeling away from him she regarded him coolly for a moment before answering.

"I'm fine Detective." He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Back to Detective are we now?" he bit out sarcastically, "You know its been seven years can't we at least be civil?" he asked. She suddenly looked enraged.

"Woody, don't you dare patronize me… you left without so much as a goodbye, what you'd think you'd come back seven years later and everything would be fine?" her voice was strident and growing an octave.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness Jor… Doctor Cavanaugh." He stammered, "Just that we keep the past in the past for once."

Jordan snorted "Hardly sounds like me." The middle aged woman grabbed a bag of chips from the shelf and preceded to open them. The clerk yelled at her in Spanish, the woman looked confused. "He said you have to pay for that." Jordan supplied helpfully. The woman gaped.

"Okay folks… since we'll be here for quite awhile why don't we introduce ourselves?" Everyone looked appalled. He sighed and started off "I'm Oliver… Ollie for short." He pointed at the couple who sat snuggled together against the wall. They looked reluctant but slowly answered.

"I'm Mitch, this is my Girlfriend Casey." He pointed to the tiny blonde girl cuddled to his shoulder. Jordan had a bad feeling about him, his slicked back look and demeanor made her uncomfortable.

"I'm Diane." The middle aged, thin woman with the bag of chips said. It moved to the couple that sat stunned, they were the closest to Jordan.

"Uh…" was all the woman said before she broke down into tears, her husband held her close and stuttered "This is my wife Eve and my daughter Sarah." He slicked back the little girls blond hair affectionately, whispering something comforting into her ear. Then came Jordan's turn. Something in her throat closed up, swallowing her fear she spoke.

"I'm Jordan Cavanaugh…. This is Woody Hoyt." She stammered nervously, hearing the sounds of sirens in the distance.

"Wait a minute…" Jordan closed her eyes when she heard the man's high pitched voice. "I know you… and you." He said pointing his gun filled hand first at Woody then at Jordan. "You're that Cop and that medical examiner I've seen on TV… Small world."

"Yeah… real small." Jordan muttered under her breath.

"Hey." He said to Woody, "What kind of a name is Woody for a cop anyways?" Woody smiled sarcastically.

"What kind of a name is Oliver for a armed robber?" Jordan had to smile. Just as Oliver began to respond, a loud, hoarse voice rang out.

"This is the Boston Police Department!!"

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Note: Short and not very descriptive, I know, sorry, just trying to fill some stuff in before we get to the good chapters.