Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm still messing with Embraceable You. That episode still bothers me. Hopefully it will resolve itself before long.

Anyhow, I don't own Crossing Jordan or anything associated with it. It all belongs to NBC and Tim Kring. However, if he needs a vacation and wants to let me be in charge while he's gone, I'd be happy to do so…


Chapter One

Welcome Back, Woodster

In retrospect, the transfer was a good idea.

It had kept him in Boston, but allowed him some space between it and her. It being the ring, all it symbolized, and her refusal to accept it.

Her being Jordan Marie Cavanaugh.

Shortly after Jordan had given him back his friendship ring and Woody had told her that he was through chasing her…that it was over, his ego couldn't take it anymore….there was homicide vacancy at the 22nd precinct.

He had thought about requesting the transfer for two days…he did wait two days to see if she would call him or come by and talk to him…maybe work things out between them. But she didn't.

He applied for the transfer and it went through. It was only supposed to be a temporary change. Walt, the detective he was filling in for, had back surgery and would be out for about six months. He figured six months would be enough time for both of them to put things in perspective. See if there really was any way to salvage a friendship.

Six months had somehow turned into a year. It had been a whole year since he had been back at the 19th precinct. But now Walt had come back to work and Woody had to return to the 19th…back to that homicide division…back to his office he shared with Framus….and back to her morgue.

A year. He adjusted his tie as he walked back to his old office. A lot could happen in a year. Not that he hadn't seen her during that time. . But those occasions had been few and far between. And blessedly brief and distant. The 22nd worked with another morgue. He only had seen her the very few times when the lines between the 19th and 22nd blurred.

"Woodster!"called out Framus, catching sight of him as he entered their small, shared office. "Welcome home!" She slapped the younger detective on the back. "How was life in the 22nd?"

Woody caught himself before Framus's back slap knocked him into his desk. "Good….Roz…good. Not as hectic as it is here, but the break was nice."

"Well, put your running shoes on. You're going to need them. And believe me, I know shoes. We've had two homicide calls this morning. Which do you want…the one by the wharf or the one downtown?

Thinking Jordan would probably be at the one downtown near the morgue, he chose the one farther away. "I'll go with the wharf. I always enjoyed the morning at the beach."

"Yeah, the stench of a decaying body over the stench of decaying fish. Yuck. Here's the address." She handed him a slip of paper. "I'm off to the one downtown. If I'm lucky, Buggles will be the answering ME." She slipped on her jacket and was out the door.

Woody shook his head. Some things hadn't changed in a year's time. Some things never would.


Nigel caught his call. Woody had been momentarily surprised. In the back of his mind, he believed that if Roz had requested Bug, by default, he'd end up dealing with Jordan first thing in the morning with precious little coffee in his system to counter act her presence.

"Woody," Nigel said, approaching the detective. "How nice to see you again. Heard they kept you on the outer fringe for a year. Good to have you back."

Woody shook the tall man's hand. "Good to be back, Nige. Let me show you what we have…" Woody spent the better part of the next hour or so with the criminalist, going over the evidence that had been collected. "Do you have an estimated TOD?" he asked.

"It looks like fourteen hours ago," Nigel replied, keeping his eyes focused on the body. "I'll know more once I get back and an autopsy is done."

"Who'll be doing the autopsy?" Woody assumed he needed to mentally prepare himself to see her one more time – that she would be doing the procedure.

"Either Sydney or Dr. Macy."

Woody looked at Nigel for a moment. The question was in his eyes, he knew. He was just hesitant to voice it. Or maybe, if he was honest, just a little afraid.

"If you're wondering about Jordan, no, she won't be doing the autopsy. She's got her hands full right now. No more new cases for a while."

"Nige? You ready?" the morgue van driver called out.

"Yeah, be right there." Nigel shut his ME case and walked to the van, calling back over his shoulder. "I'll call you when I have the reports done, Woody." He climbed in the van and shut the door.

Woody held up his hand to indicate he had heard and to acknowledge Nigel's departure.

Her hands are full…just what did Nigel mean by that statement? He didn't know.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what was in Jordan's hands at all. He told himself he no longer cared what trouble she had gotten herself into.

And if he said it enough times, he was sure he'd believe it. No, he did believe it. With his whole heart

Woody sighed and returned to his car to drive back to the 19th. He had work to do…and then he'd go over to the morgue and see what was up with the autopsy.

And maybe he could find out what was in Jordan's hands that was keeping her so busy. Maybe it was a tough case…one that was consuming all her time.

Maybe it was her paperwork…maybe Macy wasn't letting her take on any more new cases until her paperwork was caught up. She was notorious for not doing it, and he was just as notorious for cracking the whip to get it done.

Maybe…maybe she had heard he was back and didn't want to see him. That would be the best reason. He didn't want to see her and she didn't want to see him. Then they both would know it was truly over between them. No relationship. No friendship. Neither one of them needed each other. He certainly didn't need her. He had lived a whole year without her.

And was a better man because of it.