Disclaimer: In order to appreciate this story, you got to forget that "You've Really Got Me" ever took place…that Woody ever told Jordan she needed someone to hold her a little tighter, that she wanted him to kiss her again, or that she told him she would be waiting for him back in Boston. Just let it go. Sort of like when you watch the movie The Cat in the Hat, you have to forget the Dr. Seuss book in order to appreciate the video venue. Same here.

However, on a side note, I am incredibly happy that Woody and Jordan are moving their relationship along on the show. Would I be happier if it was a little faster? Nah…not given Jordan's tendency to run. Would I have been happy if they kissed in "You Really Got Me?" Heck, yeah.

Oh, and by the way, I don't own anything to do with Crossing Jordan. Nada, nothing, zip, zilch. They belong to Tim Kring and Tailwind Productions. Would I like to own them? No. Way too much responsibility. However, I would just like to be left in charge for one day….just one day.

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He remembered everything when he saw her…how her creamy skin tasted…how sweet her lips were…how it felt when their tongues danced and then their bodies joined. He remembered.

Every time he saw her.

It was burned in the visual memory of his brain. Including how she pushed him away afterwards. Whether it was her fear of intimacy on any level…or whether it simply was just him, he wasn't sure. They had not talked much since that night. And when they did, the conversation was strictly on a professional level – nothing personal. He believed she was as afraid as he was to broach the subject.

Was he afraid? Yes. What if he had no control over her reaction? What if, indeed, it was all him? That she decided that a farm boy from Wisconsin wasn't what she wanted. Or worse, what if it was someone else? But he was more than afraid.

He was angry. Furious. Seething. She had led him on…invited herself into his apartment, and then left…no, ran….in the middle of the act. Giving him no excuse. His anger was barely contained around her. And she knew this. She would take one look at his eyes and lower hers…not looking him in the eyes. Answering his questions in hushed, professional tones.

Woody sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Whatever they had….it was probably over. He wasn't sure what had happened with her or to her, but whatever they had with them…it was gone. He was tired of trying, tired of trying to win her, tired of this strange mating/dating dance that had gone on too long. It was time for him to move on. Not from Boston, but definitely from her.

She shivered when she saw him.

Not because she was cold…although their relationship was definitely frosty now…but because of the look in his eyes…anger…aloofness…but mainly questions.

Questions she wasn't sure how to answer. Or what to say.

She had been tired…so tired of shifting through her emotions….trying to decide what it was she felt about him…if she felt about him…fighting the feeling she knew was growing inside of her…that she gave in. He had invited her up to his apartment to work on a case together. Nothing unusual. She had accepted. But somewhere between the third and fourth beer, he had leaned over and kissed her. "You need someone like me in your life, Cavanaugh," he had said.

And she had responded. By the time he had gotten her to the bedroom, she only had on her bra and panties. He had pulled them off of her and kissed her…all over, before returning his lips to hers one more time. He had softly whispered to her…made sure she was ready…and then she freaked out.

He had whispered words of love and affection…devotion, even. And the only thought that ran through her mind was that she didn't deserve this man. Not the way he had planned. For this was going to be more than sex for Woody. It was making love.

Something she had never really done with a man.

Sex, yes. Making love. Never.

And it scared her to death. Woody was a good man….kind, considerate…loving. The kind of man your mother wants you to bring home because she knows that no matter what, this man is going to treat you right.

And with all that Jordan had surmised she had done wrong in her life, she didn't feel like she deserved this…not with Woody.

Sex, yes.

Love, no.

She had pushed him away, and gathered her clothes, putting them on as she fled his apartment.

She had pushed him away from her body that night. But she also knew she had pushed her way out of his heart. He had hardly spoken to her since.

But his looks nearly seared her soul. He had questions and she knew he wanted answers. Deserved answers. She just got tongue-tied around him when she tried to answer them.

She reasoned with herself that it was for the best…that he could do so much better than her…should have someone better than her.

At best, she was broken goods….at worst, she had too many issues to function.

But when the lights were out, and she was lying in bed at night, she could still feel the touch of his hands, the caresses of his lips, and his soft words in her ear. Her heart ached that she would never hear them again.

It ached again when she wondered who would be the lucky girl that would. It would break if she ever found out.

So she tried to keep her emotions, as well as his, at bay. Answering his questions about cases in a low, calm voice. And was incredibly thankful that any questions about what happened between them never came up. Yet. She was sure they would, given the right circumstances and the right time.

He did, too.

It never occurred to either one of them it would take a terrorist attack to make that happen.