Confessions pt 2

Woody had that glassy look, his eyes deep in thought. Jordan often thought of the night he left, when she was all alone in her house, a empty feeling washing over her like warm water in a bathtub. It was the last few months he was living in Boston that she noticed a subtle change in his daily routine, small things like the way he washed his face in the morning, or the way he tied his tie.

When he had come to Boston the first thing that came to Jordan's mind was he had to be on something, it wasn't normal for someone to be that happy, that easy going, that naïve. But something about him drew her nearer, some underlying sense of hopelessness that he disguised with cheer, she had never seen it before, how someone could be that happy and that sad at the same time, almost like he programmed himself to be someone he wasn't. It was a comfortable routine for him, the pretending to be someone else thing, it was safe.

The night he left Jordan entered her apartment knowing he was angry, but she had no idea what that night would lead to, the sense of changelessness that hung threw the air. How time stood still, as he disappeared around that corner. And when he walked back into the morgue she felt that changelessness once again, maybe it hung on him, like the smell of cheap cologne. He looked so desperate now, so angry, so frustrated.

She leaned closer to him, rubbing the back of his neck, she could feel him settle against her, like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. He sagged for the slightest second, letting out a small sigh. "Woody?" she asked "Why did you leave me?" He looked away from her for a moment, his eyes averting hers for a long moment. Staring out at the mist that filmed over the windows, the lights shined outside, making the inky night bright as day.

After a long moment, glancing to Oliver and the other two, making sure they were out of earshot, he murmured. "I've always wanted to be a cop… since before I can remember." He smiled sadly in remembrance. "When I was four… my mom got me a badge… she wouldn't let me have a toy gun though…" he looked down at the floor and swallowed hard. Jordan stood mesmerized, waiting. "That was a month before she died… the last feeling of happiness I felt with her, you know… without the tubes and the medication… she glowed."

Jordan had known his mother had died of cancer when he was young. After a drunken game of twenty-one questions, she had gotten a small bit of his history, he had yet to talk about his father, she had never pushed that, for once she didn't push.

"And when I got my shield… I felt I had made her proud… done something that wouldn't disappoint her…. And that night, I knew I had to choose between you and my job that I had sacrificed everything for… I was completely prepared to choose you… I did, except, it didn't feel right, I didn't feel right, I had to find a way to…" he paused, searching for words out of air it seemed "make it right."

Jordan nodded and buried her head into his shoulder. She had always thought it was her that had drove him away, why not? She had berated herself I drive everyone away. What he had told her, it was him who was to blame… he left, not her. She wanted to yell at him, tell him how much pain he had caused her. But something on his face told her that he was being punished enough.

"What happened to your head?" she asked, nodding towards the ragged scar that ran down from his hairline to his eyebrow, barely discernable, yet it ran down a sickly white and soft pinkish color, a strange color that she hadn't seen before.

He smiled nervously. "This old thing?" he teased, suddenly catching himself quickly and turned somber. "About three years ago, I was on an undercover bust… I was the first one through the door as usual… and the man inside was not a nice guy… cussing and spitting… he was on PCP, when doesn't make people very friendly… apparently he wasn't in the mood for company, so I took a toaster to the head."

Jordan couldn't constrain the laugh caught in her throat. She giggled, "A toaster huh?"

He played along, with the first Woody Hoyt 100 watt smile she had seen in a very long time. "Not quite as glamorous as a bullet, but…" his face suddenly grew serious again. "I'm sorry about the way I left Jo, If I could go back…" she stopped his flow of words with a finger pressed into his lips.

"Shh Wood, its water under the bridge…" he started to protest, but before he could move, she had placed her lips gently against his, bringing him closer to her.

It was different from the kiss they had shared in the desert, softer somehow and more comfort than anything… they were two people searching for sanctuary in a harsh and cold world, so alike, yet so different at the same time.

Slowly, the sound of wolf whistles brought them out of their revere, when they looked up Charlie and Sam were smiling at them through their ski masks. Jordan blushed and buried her head into Woody's shoulder. Woody smiled and winked.

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Oliver paced the back room, looking at the phone as if he expected it to ring. He debated whether to pick it up or not Some part of him knew he wasn't getting out of this, but at least now, he would know that he did all he could for her, his Tatiana, his Ana.

Slowly he picked up the bright red phone. "I need an outside line." He demanded, trying to sound as calculating as possible.

Deliberately dialing the numbers, knowing that possibly he would never dial them again… listened to it ring… one… two… three.

"Hello?" came a weak voice at the other end, he felt tears bubble up in his throat. He swallowed them and slowly spoke, savoring her voice.

"Hey Babe, Its me…"

"Ollie, what the hell are you do'n huh? Cops are everywhere, telling me that you're holed up in a mini mart downtown." She sounded like she didn't quite believe what she was hearing, another half sounded like she expected it.

"Honey, I have to make them listen… I have too." He tried to amend what he was doing, trying to make it sound justified, and right.

"Your crazy Oliver you know that." He could hear the tears that laced her voice.

"I've done crazier." He tried to tease, to desperately rid himself of the guilt.

"Baby, I don't care what you've done… but please get out of there, we'll sort it out, I promise… just surrender." This enraged him.

"I am not going to sit around and watch you die Ana, you hear me? No that is not something that I'm gonna do… so you know, just, get that idea out of your head." He seethed with venom.

She paused for a moment, as if contemplating what he was doing. "Ollie, please… be careful."

He smiled, a lone tear falling down his face "Hey honey, your talking to mister careful." She giggled sadly. "I gotta go babe." He whispered after a uncomfortable moment.

"Okay." She whispered softly. He paused, swallowing the tears that threatened to fall.

"I love you Tatiana."

After a long pause he finally heard the words he had desperately needed to hear. "I love you too Oliver." He set the phone back on the receiver gently, standing in pure untouched silence for a moment… for a moment he could go back before any of this happened and remember her… when she was alive and vibrant, as vivid as the sunset on a clear day.

For a moment these memories flashed in his head… he remembered her like she used to be… colorful. He picked up the receiver once more, his voice, deeper than usual, filled with purpose. "I wanna talk to detective Tanner… NOW!"