Woody murmured a slight prayer of thanks when his old car started on the first try. He'd been meaning to get it fixed, but it always ended up low on his to-do list. The drive to Jordan's apartment was relatively quiet. He couldn't help but wonder if he had gone too far. It's not like it was the first time that he was jealous because of her. He doubted it would be the last. At this point, Jordan would usually make a joke about his posturing and leave it at that. This time he couldn't tell if she was ready to kick him where it counts with her pointy shoes or cry. It's times like this he'd almost prefer the pain.

At the red light he turned to her for the umpteenth time since they walked out of his apartment. "Jordan...I don't know what went down tonight and I really don't want to know...but I'm sorry I reacted like I did."

"You can drop me off in front of my building. I can walk myself up."

He pulled over but stopped her before she could climb out of the car.

"Did he...?"

"Take advantage of me?" Jordan let out a very unladylike snort. "No farmboy, my honor is intact if that's what you're worried about. To tell you the truth, I didn't stick around long enough to find out."

He winced. He had asked the question and unfortunately got a straight answer for once...

"I'll walk you up."

"I said can walk myself up."

"It wasn't a question."

Too drained to argue, Jordan just shrugged. She was daydreaming about a long hot shower and a not-so-short cold beer as they walked to her door.

"Goodnight Jor..."he started , he could tell she wasn't listening. "Yeah, well...see you around." Half down the hallway he turned around. "Are you sure you're alright?"

His question snapped her out of her momentary paralysis. "Ah..." she blinked "Yes, I'm fine. Good night Woody.

Woody waited where he stood for the door to click behind her. He didn't turn until he heard the dead bolt flip. He rode the elevator down. Jordan had gone out of her way, in the middle of the night, to ask him out for breakfast. Was breakfast her way to reach out to him? How many times had he let her shut him out? Had he stopped counting to the point of being desensitized to them?

With a long suffering sigh he pressed the elevator up button.

Jordan couldn't what itched worse; the ruts in her scalp left over from the handful of bobby pins that had found a temporary home in the bowl of bathroom sink or the curve of her buttock from the spandex of the panty hose that now permanently resided in the wastebasket underneath said sink. She scratched both after she pulled and an old tank and a pair of shorts. The shower could wait a few minutes but her thirst couldn't.

She dug through the endless containers of decaying leftovers in her refrigerator to find one of the handful of bottles left over from her pre-alfalfa-sprout days. Irregardless of her argument with Woody she still felt liberated. Maybe antsy would be a better word. So antsy that she jumped a mile in the air when there was a knock on her door.

A quick check of the clock on her microwave proved that is was way past a sensible time to pay a social call. She snorted at the irony.

"Like the kettle..."she mumbled as she checked the peephole. Even though she knew it could only be Woody standing outside her door, she was still a little surprised. "Did that classic you drive finally die on you?"

Woody took in the changed clothes and fresh scrubbed face. This was the Jordan he knew and...

Despite his mood, he stifled a laugh. "No, I was going to ask if you were still up for breakfast but I see you've changed...your mind."

She probably should still be hurt. She was a girl after all. It was her right. But seeing his uncomfortable smile, she resolved it was also her feminine prerogative to change her mind. "There is nothing more pathetic than to sit in the corner booth of the local all night greasy spoon, wearing a last season Marc Jacobs and wolfing down a five egg Spanish omelet all alone."

"It depends on if you have the silver dollar pancake side with it." Finding an opening, he asked, "May I come in?"

Jordan held the door open for him. "Woody, I need to apologize for..."

"No, no you don't," he corrected her. "I acted like a jerk. I don't blame you for getting defensive."

Casually locking the door behind him she said, "Let's call it a draw, okay?"

"Start over?" He flashed her an innocent smile.

"Sure."

"So," he started...shoving his hands in his pockets. "Did you have a good time at the party?" Keeping the indifference in his voice was proving to be a challenge.

She smiled enjoying his discomfort. "It was interesting. I met quite a few interesting people there. Thirsty?"

"Um, sure...unless you're still up for breakfast..."

Jordan handed him a bottle from her fridge. "Where can you buy a big breakfast and a beer in this town?"

Woody looked at the beer oddly. "I think they have laws against that...at least some ethical rules..."

"How 'bout I treat you to breakfast right here? I think I've got something in here..."

Jordan dug through her refrigerator. It wasn't looking good. With a snap of his fingers she reached inside the freezer and pulled out an ancient box of Eggo waffles. "It's not a four egg Spanish omelet but these things rock with a little bit of cinnamon sugar..."

Woody looked at the box wearily, but not as wearily as he looked at Jordan. Twenty minutes ago she was barely speaking to him on she was 'cooking' him breakfast. Normally not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Woody still couldn't help but wonder what was really going on with her. Taking a tentative sip out of his beer he said, "Sounds...yummy."

"Don't sound so convinced. I might think your being facetious," Jordan said in a light but slightly sarcastic tone. It didn't stop her from loading the first batch in the toaster.

Teasing tones aside Woody put his full bottle down next to Jordan's half empty one. "Jordan, what's really going on here? You are busying around here wired for sound..."

To prove his point Jordan used her fingertip to test the edge of the waffle while it was still in the toaster and accidentally touched the hot metal. "Why would you think something's going on..." she mumbled semi intelligibly with her finger in her mouth.

"Nothing. So Eggos huh? I thought you were trying a new healthier diet," he said in that matter-of-fact, dry reporter kind of way.

"Yes, well like I said I'm not cut out for that whole gig. Butter?"

"Real?"

"Organic..."

"Good enough."

Woody sat down at the end the kitchen counter while she finished fixing his plate. When she set in down in front of and simply took a seat he looked at her in question. "What about you?"

"I had my sights set on eggs not Eggos, besides the other two in the box look older than that ice man they found in that Canadian glacier a few years back."

Woody took a mouth and savored the favor before cutting a second forkful. "Well, if I'm facing a case of food poisoning in the morning I might as well have company," he smiled holding out the fork for her. He expected her to laugh...tell him he was crazy...slap his shoulder and grab something out of her refrigerator. Instead she leaned or and opened her lips wrapping them slowly around the steel tip of the fork. When she sat back he could have sworn she licked her lips.

In actuality, she quickly slipped the waffle off the folk with her teeth and murmured something about maybe more cinnamon would help, but in his mind's eye she made the last late night cable movie he watched look like a bunch of rank amateurs.

"Wood, are you alright? They got that funky freezer taste don't they..."

"No," he nearly choked. "They're the best waffles I've ever had..."

"Yeah right," she snickered.

"Okay, Eggos don't age well." He pushed the plate away catching her eye. "Jordan, while I enjoy our verbal sparing, really I do...but I think it's time we had a talk."


Okay I lied. I chopped it into two chapters to keep you all from falling asleep (and to give NCCJFAN her request.)