A/N, I know, I'm evil, but I honestly can't choose myself! I know who I personally would pick, but I can't do that to her.

The knock on the door startled him. He got up and opened it, to find her there with a bag of food, and he laughed. "Thought you might like some Chinese." He shook his head.

"Why does this seem very familiar?" He said, as she waltzed into his house and started pulling the food out of the bag as he got plates and silverware.

"Deja vu?" She said with a smile as she dished out the food. He shook his head.

'Try you were here a week ago begging me to go to the beach with you." She grinned.

"Well, you no longer can disappear against a whitewashed wall." He looked down at his arms which were a good few shades darker.

"So, why are you here this time? Plotting another getaway?" she shook her head.

"Sadly no, just wanted some company." He smiled softly at her.

"Just as well. I don't think I could take another weeks vacation with you." She laughed. "Being dragged on every single boardwalk ride, dragged into the ocean and back out again, having your name painted on me-which hasn't even begun to fade, by the way, and spending the last few days of it doing things that my body still hasn't recovered from-"

"Was very very fun." She finished for him. She rolled her shoulders and he heard them crack.

"You're tense." He pointed out as they ate, and she shrugged.

"Just stress." He shook his head.

"How often have you been home this week?" He asked her and she thought.

"Just to sleep. Spent most of the rest of the time at the mourge or stopping by to see Woody." That was the one avenue of discussion he didn't want to follow right now.

"How is he?" He asked trying to act as if he did care about the young man. He did care, but at the moment the injured detective was his competition.

"Not bad. He's starting to move a bit, but he's got a lot ahead of him." He noticed the dark circles under her eyes and frowned.

"You haven't been sleeping."

"I told you, it's just stress. Things'll be a lot better once you're back and Woody's recovered." They finished eating and put the plates in the sink.

"Is it really just stress?" He asked, concerned for her well being, and she nodded.

"I swear to you, only stress." She followed him to the couch where he flicked on the TV, looking for something, anything to watch. The settled on the Sox game.

"Come here." He told her, and she acquiesced, leaning back against him as deft hands rubbed her shoulders, gently working out the knotted muscles, easing away the stress. She grinned, if she was a cat, she would have been purring underneath his gentle but forceful touch.

"Who knew you were so good at massages?" She asked as his hands strayed from her shoulders to work their way down her back.

"Hidden talent." He told her as he felt her relax fully beneath his touch, enjoying the feel of her.

"What other hidden talents do you have, and are any as wonderful as this?" She asked him as she sprawled out on the couch, her legs across his lap as every knotted muscle was slowly unkinked. He simply grinned as he worked his way down to where her lower back dipped and back up.

"One way to find out." He whispered in her ear, gently trailing kisses from her ear to where his access was hampered by her shirt. She rolled over to face him, and looked up in his eyes. He could see the regret, the fear in them, and he instantly wished he could take back what he had said.

"Garret-" She started, and he shook his head.

"Just forget it." He told her, leaning back.

"Garret-no, don't, don't stop." She leaned forward and kissed him. She leaned back against him, pushing him down, and he sprawled out, leaning as far back against the cushions as he could, giving her room to lay partially on top of him, partially on the couch.

"Jordan-" He started. He didn't want to force a commitment out of her, but at the same time he wanted to have some sense of where he stood. She had warned him and he hadn't cared, he still didn't, but if he could only know, it wasn't the thought that she might choose Woody over him, that he could live with, it was the uncertainty that was killing him.

"Garret, please" She knew what he was trying to ask of her. "It's hard enough on me trying to figure out what's going on in my life. I hate this feeling of not knowing what's going on in my own life." He wrapped his arms around her holding her close, and he felt teardrops fall onto his shirt.

"It's OK." he soothed, gently stroking her, soothing her.

"I just wish I had a clue of what I wanted."

"Do you?" He asked. "Have any clue what you want?" She looked at him. "Tell me, no matter who it is-what it is." Brown eyes met their match and he could see the indecisiveness in her.

"My brain keeps telling me to go with Woody, and my heart keeps telling me no, anyone but him, for all the reasons my brain is telling me to pick him, that he's stable, that he's the embodiment of the guy next door, that he loves me, that he's the white picket fence 2.5 kids perfect guy with just the tiniest bit of spice, and my heart keeps reminding me that I swore from the time I was six that that was the last thing I ever wanted." He smiled.

"What does your heart want?" She shrugged.

"Right now it's to busy going 'Not Woody, not Woody, not Woody' to say what it does want." There was just the faintest hint of a grin on her face. "I walk out of that hospital every single time saying something that I've realized I don't mean, but I say it anyway because I keep thinking that Woody's the one for me-if nothing else, I know he loves me."

He paused for a long minute, the words were there, they just didn't want to come. "He's not the only one." He told her softly, and there was a moment where something flickered across her face, but he couldn't tell what, and she kissed him.

"I know." She told him, resting her head against his chest and staying like that for a long time, neither of them speaking.