Disclaimer: I don't own Crossing Jordan or Jerry O'Connell. Unfortunately.
A/N: This chapter takes place the morning after Chapter 2. Sorry it's so short; there's more coming soon, I promise.
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The insistent buzz of my alarm clock drags me out of the best sleep I've had in a very long time. I swat halfheartedly at the nightstand, too drowsy to be bothered with opening my eyes; instead, I hope that my fingers will encounter the snooze button through blind luck.
A gentle hand covers mine, guiding my fingers to the button. I squint at the hand just long enough to realize who it belongs to, and as we turn off the little device together, the events of last night come rushing back to me. Woody stayed with me. I didn't have to bribe him or beg him or have sex with him to get him to do it, either; he did it because he was worried about me. Because he cares about me. The idea is almost too novel to contemplate.
"Hey, sweetheart," the object of my musings murmurs from beside me, his voice groggy. I tilt my head back to look at him. His eyes are bleary with sleep and his hair is rumpled from the pillow. I smile at the sight; he's cute when he's waking up.
"Morning," I sigh, burying my face against his chest.
"Time to get up," he says softly, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing it. I shake my head resolutely.
"Don't want to," I inform him, petulant. "Can't we just stay like this a little longer? Please?"
He chuckles softly, his fingers running through my hair. "I'll give you another five minutes, but then we both have to get ready for work."
"I want forever," I complain, closing my eyes and snuggling closer to him, basking in the warmth of his body. "But if all you're offering is another five minutes, I'll take it."
He's silent for a moment, and then he sits up suddenly, bringing me with him. I frown, the sleepy haze clearing from my mind as I realize how he could have interpreted my remark.
"Woody, I –"
He holds up his hand to quiet me, reaching for the phone. I watch as he dials, and as he puts the receiver to his ear he cups my cheek with gentle fingers.
"Annie? It's Woody," he says, clearing his throat. "Look, I'm not going to be able to make it in today…Yeah, it's a personal thing. Tell the boss I'm out sick, will you?…Sure, no problem. I'll see you tomorrow."
He hits the end-call button, then hands the phone to me.
"Now I'm offering the rest of the day," he says simply, smiling at me before flopping back down onto the pillows. "You interested?"
I give him an unrestrained grin, punching in the number for Garrett's cell phone. Garrett, bless him, only lets me get far enough into my spiel to tell him that I'm too tired to be of any use to him today before he cuts me off, reminding me that he's been trying to get me to take some time off for over a month. He then flat-out orders me not to show my face at the morgue until I've had at least a day's worth of uninterrupted sleep. After another few moments' worth of small talk, we say goodbye. I hang up the phone triumphantly, curling up contentedly in the circle of Woody's arms.
"Thank you," I whisper, looking up at him. He's watching me with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his expression warring between fond amusement and something deeper.
"I told you, Jordan," he replies, his voice soft as he brushes my hair away from my face. "I'm here for you, whatever you need. Right now you need sleep and I'm going to make sure you get some."
"I haven't slept this well since before the break-in," I confess. "Actually, I haven't really slept at all since the break-in. I was afraid to." I glance up at him, smiling tentatively. "I feel safe with you, though."
"Jordan," he breathes, his arms tightening around me. "You are safe with me, sweetheart. I promise. No matter what, you'll always be safe with me. I'll never let anybody hurt you."
His words send a pleasant shiver down my spine. I've always prided myself on being strong and self-sufficient, but everybody needs to rely on someone else once in a while, and I know I can trust Woody to take care of me. I can count the number of people I trust that much on one hand and still have fingers left over.
I rest my head on his chest, closing my eyes. His heartbeat under my ear is soothing, the steady sound lulling me back into the soft darkness of sleep. As I'm drifting off, I feel his hand on my back, his fingers stroking my bare skin, and I realizeI can't remember the last time I felt so secure.