Note: Sorry this took so long, I was in Palo Alto for a trip to Stanford.

"Listen, you know we can't do that," Shiloh argued with the man, pushing Nigel out of the way as he tried to listen in.

"I think you can… you will," he paused for a half a second, trying to sound as angry as he could, and a little less distraught. "If you wanna see your medical examiner and your Detective again." With that he slammed the phone down on the receiver.

"What was that?!" Nigel asked, troubled, his pale face even lighter. Shiloh sighed.

"Listen Doctor Townsend, you'll have to cool it… this guy is asking for something that's impossible… I can't allow it, and I can tell you the chief won't go for it either, we don't negotiate with armed robbers."

Nigel let out a dismissive noise, shaking his head in disbelief and disgust. "We need to get someone in there…"

Shiloh let out a grunt, turning to meet the lanky doctor that was more than a head taller than her. "Doctor Townsend, we have to do this by the book, I'm sorry… I wish I could do more, but he is asking that his girlfriend be flown to Harvard University hospital to have more test done… where are we gonna land a helicopter… think about it Doctor, it won't work." She pulled her already tight fitting sweatshirt around her stomach comfortingly. "I'm sorry." She whispered, he nodded grimly, and swallowed hard.

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Jordan watched the rain shower down on the cars and people, dawn was approaching, she could see streaks of stormy grey and dull grey-green stretching across the sky. Woody was sitting next to her, his knees brought up to his chest, chewing at furiously at his cuticles. She played with the tips of his hair gently. How many times had she thought she was pushing him down, only she wasn't pushing, he was already on the floor, she had been kicking him while he was down. A surge of guilt fluttered threw her veins, Woody caught her looking at him and smiled, a little timidly, brushing a strand of chestnut hair from her cocoa eyes and raising an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked.

"Did you hate me?" she asked her voice cracking, "I mean after all that… I just need to know if you hated me or if you hate me or what…because I have all these questions Wood, I have all these questions I never got answered." He stopped her gush of words by placing a gentle finger against her lips, sticky with gloss.

"Jordan… I never hated you… it was more like I hated myself, for doing that to you… the way I left and all… I don't know." He paused, slipping his sunglasses that had been resting in his hair down over his indigo eyes, continuing his deadpan stare out of the window at the swat team that stood outside in the mist, they had been undetectable in the stark emptiness of night time, and had now appeared magically with the impending light. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." He finished dully, swallowing painfully. After a long uncomfortable silence Woody finally asked her the question he felt run through his mind often. "Did you hate me?"

She leaned a little closer to him. "I felt… confused, alone, and… yeah, for a while there I think I did hate you… but the feeling left as quick as it came… I knew I brought it on…. You told me to back off, it was a high profile case, the press was all over it and it was a touchy matter with the chief that if he found out that you gave me that file, you'd loose your job, and what did I do?"

"Its over now Jo, can we forget it please." He begged listlessly, her words brought on a surge of memories.

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Seven years earlier…

"I can't Jordan, you know that." Woody said to the receiver of the phone. He could almost see her roll her eyes. The pounding of the rain against the pavement could be heard in the background.

"Woody… please… I can prove she didn't do it, all I need is that police report on her husbands domestic violence wrap sheet." Woody tapped his pen against his desk steadily. Looking to the corner of his desk, a picture of them sat there, undusted, unkempt. She had her arm around his waist, he was pressing a kiss into her temple.

It had been barely three months since she had slain her demons and buried them. At least enough to where she could function semi normally. But there would be a case here and there, it would grasp her attention and send her on a rampage, taking everyone she knows down with her. In that sense she hadn't changed at all. But she had allowed him in, a little at a time, she allowed him to creep into her heart, he hadn't been sorry.

A big part of him wanted to give her that file, at least she'd be happy. That was all he ever wanted for her. The other part was screaming, he'd loose his job, then what would he be? A cop without his badge? What is that.

Nothing.

That word screamed in his mind, without that badge, he was nothing, a shell of a man that had lost the one thing that had driven him for years. It was the one thing he wanted more than anything, and he had successfully pushed everyone aside for it, until now. Jordan Cavanaugh, his bright, beautiful, smart, sexy coroner. What was he without her?

Nothing.

But he hesitated, just for a second, but that pause spoke volumes. She could hear him take in a quick breath and knew nothing would ever drag him away from his badge, not even her. A flush of anger rushed threw her body.

"Woody, Go to hell." She seethed with venom before slapping her cell phone shut.

Woody sat stunned for a moment, listen to the automated voice telling him his call had long since been disconnected. Slowly, he took in a deep breath, looking around slowly. people were standing in the middle of the hallway to watch Sarah Sealer being lead out of her mansion in handcuffs. He looked down at his badge, resting idly next to his keyboard. He picked it up, feeling each groove in the cold metal. Suddenly a cold rush of despair came over him. How many people had he lost because of this hunk of metal? Too many he concluded with a grunt, throwing it down on his desk with something approaching disgust.

He would not loose her too.

Methodically, he flipped threw his drawer until he found the file in question, without a second beat he was out the door, heading to the apartment he and Jordan had shared for less than a week.

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Oliver stared out at the hazy periwinkle sky that seemed doused with rain. He could hear footsteps in the other room, looking down at the picture in his hand with a sense of regret and astounding despair. In times of fear over losing the one person we love more than anything, we do things we would never do otherwise. That was what Detective Tanner had told him, she had told him things were over, he wasn't getting out of this one.

He looked at the rain, as if for the first time, he had never taken himself for a man who was spontaneous, he didn't watch the sunset, he couldn't look at the waves laping against the shore for hours. But at that moment everything would be okay.

Dectective Tanner had been nice, told him, they booked an appointment for Tatinana with the top oncologist in the country, if only he'd surrender. Weighing his gun in his hand, he knew that wasn't possible, he had come with one purpose, to save her. And now he was done. Pulling his rosary beads out from his jacket pocket, allowing the string of beads to tangle in his fingers.

"Bless me father for I have sinned." He whispered.

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Jordan was beginning to doze off on Woody's shoulder, feeling the comfort she had needed for a very long time. Her hand softly enveloped in his, she felt so safe… so secure.

She could hear the snores of Sam and Charlie from only a few feet away, the buzz of sirens and the shouts of news crews seemed distant and far off. Suddenly it rang out from the back room, an all to familiar noise for her. A single shot rang threw the silence, startling everyone from the peace they had created in their minds