A/N on the title of this chapter: for those of you who have never read The Princess Bride (and everyone should read it!), ROUS's stands for Rodents Of Unusual Size... guess who that is...evil grin

It was well past nine in the morning when Jordan finally noticed Woody's eyes flit open. She put down the book she had been reading to pass the time and leaned forward in her chair, closer to him. Woody squinted sleepily at the morning sun and reached up to rub his eyes. When his eyes focused, they settled on Jordan.

"You stay here the whole night?" he asked groggily.

"Yup."

Woody looked surprised by this, almost suspicious that she would choose to do such a thing.

"Your surgery went well," Jordan told him, evading the questions written all over his face. "It could have been a pretty serious situation, but time was on your side."

Woody just looked at her, trying to figure out why, after four days of avoiding any more contact with him than was necessary, she would stay all night in his hospital room. Jordan kept her eyes down, staring at the edge of his bed. She was trying hard not to let her discomfort show. Chalking her sudden change of heart up to typical Jordan impulsiveness, Woody dropped his interrogation stare.

"Did they say when I can get out of here?" he decided to find out.

Jordan relaxed at his question, glad to find that the conversation was going to stay on a fairly normal level.

"Tomorrow, barring any complications," she said, obviously happy to give him the news.

"Thank God," he breathed a sigh of relief. "I don't think I could stand any more hospital time."

Jordan chuckled at his enthusiasm. Getting to know him over the last week, in addition with her surfacing memories, she understood how easy it was for him to grow restless. Although he had a tendency to hide out at the morgue, she saw how eager he was to at least get out of the apartment for the afternoon. That was one of the reasons she continued to drag him there with her.

"Oh, I've got some news," she said, her eyes dancing back up to meet his. "I talked to Sidney a while ago, and he told me to tell you when you woke up that they arrested Martin Gomez."

"They got him?" Woody asked in disbelief. "I bet Slocum is over the moon about this. Word has it around the precinct that he's going to get a lot of recognition for this."

"Not to mention settling an old score. But here's the interesting part," Jordan went on. "Apparently, Gomez was aware that one of his henchmen was drowning these women. They were all getting their drugs through him, but they were extremely good at covering their addictions up, being such promising young women as they were."

"All upper middle class, very upstanding lives," Woody interjected.

"Exactly. But for some crazy reason, they thought they could get away with evading payment. Big mistake for them."

"Wait, you said that it wasn't Gomez who was killing them," Woody said, confused. "So how can they get him on anything but drug possession?"

"Don't forget, they found his hair on the last victim," Jordan reminded him. "And yet, he's firmly denying that he murdered her himself. And his henchman isn't claiming responsibility either."

Woody furrowed his brow, thinking about this information. Jordan waited for him to speak, hoping that perhaps he would see something in this case that they had all missed.

"That doesn't make any sense," Woody muttered. "Why would they confess to the all the other murders, and deny this one?"

"I don't know," Jordan shrugged. "I was kinda hoping you could lend some insight." Before she could try to cover it up, Jordan started to yawn, revealing just how tired she really was. "Oh, sorry," she apologized.

"Jordan, did you sleep at all last night?" Woody asked her. Jordan shrugged it off and waved a dismissive hand at him. Woody gave her a stern look. "You're exhausted, Jordan. Go home and get some rest. I promise, I'll still be here later today."

She smiled at his concern. Earlier, before he woke, she had planned on arguing with him to let her stay. Now, however, a few hours sleep in her own bed was starting to sound pretty good.

"As you wish," she said as she stood up. "Ah, that reminds me." She turned around and picked up the book she had been reading, holding it in front of her as she faced him again. "The Princess Bride."

"What?"

"'Farm boy' is from The Princess Bride," she handed the book over to him. He took it and looked curiously at the elegant hard cover book. "Lily packed it for me last night when she brought my overnight bag. Timely, isn't it?"

With that, Jordan placed her hand at the back of his head and kissed him lightly on his brow.

"Get better. I'll be back later," she told him, mussing his hair before leaving the room.

Woody watched her go, completely dumbfounded by her theatrical and sudden departure. Jordan certainly had a way of acting exactly the opposite of how he expected sometimes. Most of all, he was just plain shocked that she listened to him without an argument. He looked back down at the book, wondering just how his nickname had come into existence. It amused him that Jordan would pluck it from a book. He assumed that the book had triggered the memory of choosing to call him farm boy. Taking a deep breath, he opened the cover and began to read the well worn pages that Jordan obviously cherished.

Jordan nearly fell asleep in midair as she crashed into bed. For the first time in a week, she had a dreamless sleep, free of any thought at all. She woke at four in the afternoon, feeling a thousand times better. For a while, she just lay there, enjoying being able to relax. She checked her cell to make sure the hospital hadn't called, and was glad to see they didn't. Snuggling down into her pillow, she found herself inhaling the scent of Woody's cologne. Her heart fluttered a little at the thought of him. She stretched her hand out across the bedspread, imagining him lying there.

Ever since the night she had danced with him, she knew beyond a doubt that there was something between them. It wasn't until after his revelation about their fall out that she really began to remember her feelings for him. It was bitter sweet remembering it, because along with those feelings of warmth came memories of letting him slip away from her, hurting him, and finally his rejection. She felt like an outsider viewing her idiotic actions towards him, wishing she could scream at herself to just shut up and let him into her life. It was odd experiencing the feelings of love first, and then realizing she had unfairly pushed him away because of her insecurities.

She just thanked God that she was being given a second chance. Somewhere along the lines, Woody had found a reason to stand by her just a little while longer. She believed him when he told her that his words to her in the hospital were said in anger and fear. She understood that. Her own decision to avoid him for the last few days was based on fear as well. But what he didn't know was that it was mostly fear of herself. Jordan wasn't all that thrilled with the person who was making her way back into her mind. All she could do now was make a choice to accept who that person was, and then walk away from every stupid decision she had ever made in regards to other people in her life.

With a refreshed mind and a clear plan ahead of her, Jordan hopped out of bed and showered quickly. She headed over to the morgue, determined to find out what was going on with the drowning cases. Stepping out of the elevator, she absently grabbed a visitors' badge and sought out Nigel. Quickly spotting him in his office, she knocked twice and entered without waiting for an answer.

"Jordan, how's Woody? I heard he pulled through all right," Nigel inquired.

"He's great, Nige," she told him with a smile. Nigel looked relieved to hear it from Jordan. "He's actually pretty preoccupied with the Gomez case," she hinted none too subtly.

"You never were a very good liar, Jordan," Nigel smirked. "Especially when you want something."

Despite his teasing, Nigel walked over to his desk and retrieved a few files that were sitting there. Jordan walked over to him as he leaned against the desk and opened up one of the files.

"We have got some juicy stuff here," he prepped her. She looked at him eagerly. "You heard that Gomez and Torrance, the other seller, are totally denying the latest murder. Yet, we have the evidence to convict Gomez."

"Old news, Nige," Jordan hurried him.

"Right," Nigel looked at her, his thunder stolen. "Ok, well, we took another look at the residue from under her fingernails. Before, all we could find was latex, which makes sense if the killer was wearing gloves to cover his tracks. But at some point in the struggle, she must have broken through the gloves." He stopped momentarily to pull out a sheet of paper. "And low and behold, human DNA…and it's not Gomez's."

"Wow," Jordan marveled. "And I thought there was only one situation where you don't want the latex to break. I stand corrected."

"Jordan, I do believe you are making a full recovery to your old self," Nigel laughed. Jordan took the file from him and browsed through it.

"Has anyone shown this to Slocum yet?" she asked as she looked.

"Not yet," Nigel's fervor died down. "None of us really want to be the one to tell him. He's going to be furious."

"Allow me," Jordan smiled mischievously, walking out of the room before Nigel could say anything to stop her.

Jordan walked briskly towards Slocum's office, barging into the room without even knocking. She was a little surprised to find that there was no one there. For being such a pain in the ass boss, Slocum really knew how to avoid the office most of the time. Jordan suddenly realized that she was alone in his office. Something clicked in her head, and all she could think of doing was snooping around.

Looking through the windows to make sure no one was watching, she placed the file down on the desk and casually walked behind it. The place was absolutely immaculate. Jordan didn't understand how anyone could be this neat. In frustration, she figured out that she wasn't going to find anything good without being completely conspicuous. Just as she was about to give up and leave, she noticed a small evidence bag sitting on the lower shelf of his bookcase.

Picking it up, she saw that it held several strands of short, dark hair. Furrowing her brow, she looked for any kind of label on the tiny bag, but could find none. Well that's strange, she thought. Without warning, the door banged shut behind her. Jordan jumped and turned around quickly to see Slocum standing there, fire in his eyes. Damn it! she thought, realizing that she still held the bag in full view. She stammered for an explanation, but he cut her off.

"I warned the staff not to let you get involved in the cases," he snapped. "I don't care how good of an ME you are. I was going against my better judgment to even let you visit. But now, you have proven that you've worn out your welcome. You may leave now."

After dismissing her, Slocum walked pompously over to his desk and sat down in his chair as though he was taking the throne. He froze and looked at the file sitting across his desk, looking at it like he might have a burnt dinner.

"What is this?" he demanded, looking up at her. He then noticed the bag in her hand. Standing up abruptly, his hand shot out towards her. "What are you doing with that! Give it to me!"

Jordan began to feel her rage bubbling to the surface, close to exploding. Gritting her teeth, she carelessly tossed the bag on top of the case file.

"Must be pretty important," she said, a challenge in her voice.

"It is," Slocum said self righteously. "It's the sample taken from Martin Gomez. It's what's linking him to this murder, what's bringing him to justice after many years of crime."

"Why is it unlabeled?" Jordan questioned firmly. "I mean, if it's all that important… In any case, you might want to take a look at that file. You'll be rethinking that whole justice thing."

"Out," Slocum growled at her, pointing towards the door.

"Gladly," Jordan spat back at him, leaving in a fury and nearly shattering the glass in the door as she slammed it shut.