Chapter Three

Their relationship began to change…subtly at first. Gradually. At a pace they both were comfortable with. His hand would linger just a little longer than necessary on her back. He would call her during the day just to see how she was…not talking about any of their cases. She would cook dinner for the two of them. Slowly they began to walk the path out of mere friendship into something deeper.

Not that they didn't take some steps backwards. She tried to remember to listen to him at an active crime scene and not go barging in. She wasn't perfect…but she was getting better. The smile he gave her at the last one proved it. They still disagreed. She would claim he was too narrow-minded on a case and wasn't listening to the forensic evidence. He would tell her she was a conspiracy theorist. They both would back away from each other then, carefully circling each other emotionally, just to see where things were going…

It was during these times Jordan wondered if she hadn't made a mistake, trying to see if there was a relationship still there between the two of them. She was trying…hard, and so was Woody. She wondered if unintentionally they weren't putting too much pressure on each other to make this thing work between them. And from the looks he gave her occasionally, she knew he was thinking the same thing.

So it was after a long day at work, and yet another disagreement with Woody, that Jordan found herself on the morgue rooftop...the place where she would go to hide or think. It was a late evening in October ….it had already gotten dark and the stars were out. On the roof, they appeared so close you almost could reach out and touch them. She sat down and leaned back against a wall, hidden out of sight from nearly anyone who might come on the roof. She rested her arms on her knees. I am really no good at this she thought, contemplating hers and Woody's relationship. I don't know how to do this…love him the way he needs to be loved…deserves to be loved. I just keep messing up. She felt the tears well up and one slid down her cheek. Angrily, she wiped it away. I always promised myself that if I ever did fall in love again, I wouldn't let it hurt me…and it does. This hurts. I hate it when we fight.

"Penny for your thoughts." His voice startled her out of her musings.

"They're not worth that much," she replied, her voice wobbling just a little.

Woody went over and sat down beside her. "I couldn't find you …. I looked in trace, your office, and autopsy…you were nowhere to be found, but your car was still here."

"So you thought I might jump?"

He chuckled. "No…I didn't think you'd jump off the roof, but I knew this was where you came when you needed to think or be alone…So I thought I'd find you here now."

"How'd you know that?" she asked, still not raising her head to look at him.

"You brought me up here a long time ago…remember? When I was nearly arrested for killing the Montgomery girl?"

So long ago…she knew she would have been completely lost if he had gone to jail. She had risked everything to make sure he didn't. "That was a long time ago."

He nodded and reached out to lift her chin so he could see her face. Her tears startled him. He could feel apprehension reach out and grab his gut and tie it in knots. "Jo? What's the matter?"

"I hate fighting with you."

"It never bothered you before…"

"That was then. This is now. Then we weren't trying to see if there was a relationship between us. Now we are. And it's scary – fighting with you."

"Jo, as long as we work together, I have a feeling we're going to disagree. You're a ME and I'm a cop. We've trained differently. Whereas I've been taught that certain crimes generally follow certain scenarios, you've been taught to listen only to the forensics of a case and hear what they're telling you. The two worlds are bound to collide. Just because we're a little more than friends now don't mean that's going to change. I don't expect it to."

She nodded. "It's just …. You get so vocal…"

"What do you mean?"

"Loud, Woody. You get loud…"

He chuckled and pulled her into his arms. "I'll try to be quieter, Dr. Cavanaugh." He held her for a few minutes, softly stroking her hair. "You know….it's when we fight about us that you have to be concerned." He felt her nod against him. "It's cold, Jordan. I need to get you inside. You're going to be sick." He stood and pulled her to her feet. "You know, there's something I'd like to do sometime soon."

"What?"

"Get away for awhile. You and me. Just you and me. No cell phones. No Pogue. No cases. Just you and me and time for us…."

Her breath caught in her throat. Just us….sounds so nice, she thought. "I'd like that, too."

"We'll give it some more time and see what we can do…I want us both to be comfortable with everything before we leave."

She nodded and looked up into his eyes. They were very serious, gazing back at her. "Woody?" His name came out as a question. Slowly, he lowered his head and let his lips brush hers, only to feel hers cling to his. He tightened his hold around her waist, and pulled her just a little closer as he angled his head and deepened the kiss a little more, then caught his breath as she responded.

Before…when they had been aimlessly flirting around the issue of each other, the only real goal he had in mind with Jordan was at least getting past first base….funny how emotions, time, and circumstances can alter your feelings. Now, he only wanted her to be comfortable, feel secure with him before they went any further. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss…that had remained fairly chaste, as far as kisses go. "That was a long time coming," he softly said…referring to their first kisses two years ago or longer in California.

"Yeah…No desert, but we still have the stars…" she replied, remembering that night around the campfire. "And if that crazy guy hadn't of come along and took you away, we may have seen some stars that weren't in the sky."

He thought for a moment. "Yeah. Most likely, you're right. I would have made love to you then. I wanted to. But I'm glad we didn't."

"Woody? Why?"

"Because….I have a feeling if that would have happened then, we wouldn't be standing here today. You'd have run as soon as we got back to Boston."

She nodded. He was right. Intimacy on that level with him would have scared her then. "I know."

He looked at her for a long minute, holding her whiskey-colored gaze with his own. It would happen. At some point in time, they both knew it would. But this time, they both would be ready. "Let's get you inside," he finally said. "It's got to be below freezing up here."