Originally, I wanted to have this story finished by today…but then I thought that after tonight, it might be nice to have a little fanfic fluff to look forward to, dontcha think? Happy season premiere day, everyone! Here's hoping things turn out for the best for our favorite couple.

Dare You To Move

Jordan didn't remember falling asleep, but she knew that her last conscious thought was how wonderful it felt to be tucked against Woody's side. It must have been a euphoria induced sleep, but not very long, as daylight kept the room in grey shadows when her eyes opened.

She woke to find the bed empty.

Her heart skipped a beat. Oh God, please let him just be in the kitchen making dinner. Her mind racing, she pulled on a pair of jeans, her tank top, and her knit cardigan. The rain was still pounding on the roof of the house, and it was starting to get chilly. Slowly, she made her way downstairs, looking for any sign of him along the way. She didn't know what she would do if he had walked out on her for any reason. Her heart couldn't take being broken by him for a second time. Close to panicking, she finally spotted him through the front window, sitting in shelter from the rain on the porch swing. Jordan carefully opened the front door and walked outside, pulling the sweater closer around her.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked softly. He didn't answer right away.

"Did I just screw everything up?" he asked her quietly, his eyes glued to the porch.

"No," she said, stunned.

"If you think we made a mistake, just say it," he went on, his voice low and sorrowful.

"No, I don't," she insisted. He looked at her skeptically. "If I thought this was a mistake, I'd be on the next flight back to Boston and you'd be the one waking up alone in a cold bed," she told him, her voice full of hurt. He looked away from her, staring at the rain pouring down in front of him.

"Don't, Jordan," he warned her. "I need an honest answer from you. I don't want to go back to Boston and watch you pretend that this was a one time thing, or that it never happened at all."

It felt like someone had reached inside of her and ripped out her heart. He didn't believe her. He still didn't believe that she was finally giving herself to him, after all these years of guarding her emotions.

"When are you going to trust me?" she said, her tone nearing a pleading state. "When are you going to understand that this is what I want, that I lo-" she choked on the last few words, her emotions taking control of her voice.

Woody hated hearing that tone in her voice. He knew he was hurting her by saying these things. But there was still this part of him that was scared to death that once the plane touched down in Boston, she would slip from his fingers like silk and he would never be able to catch her again. Jordan had melted to him in a way that he had only dreamed of. It worried him that she had given herself to him without so much as a backward glance. Every time Jordan acted impulsively in that way, she inevitably jerked in the opposite direction when she realized what she had done.

"It's taken us so long to get here," Woody said, shaking his head slightly. "I don't want it to be for nothing."

"You're right, it has taken us a long time," Jordan said meaningfully. "Which is mostly my fault. I stopped things back in California because I didn't want things to end up…like this. I didn't want to end up hurting you, and I knew that I would somehow…I did anyway," she added helplessly.

"Would you stop acting like everything you touch turns to dust?" he lectured her. "For once, can you just accept that you're allowed to be happy?"

Jordan stared at him, silent for several moments. "Are you happy?" she asked him quietly.

Woody stared ahead of him, his face softening ever so slightly. Sadness still played at his eyes, though.

"You're all I've wanted for four years," he told her.

"What does that mean?" she demanded. "You finally got me, so…now the dance is over? Now it's okay for us to go our separate ways? I'm not buying that!"

"Jordan, that's not what I meant. That's not what I want," he said quickly, standing up and taking a step towards her. She put a hand out as if to stop him, backing away a little.

"Please, Woody, I just-" she bit off her words and looked away from him quickly, fighting back the tears threatening her eyes. She wiped at her eyes, trying not to let him see her lose control, staring fixedly at the rain. The sound of his footsteps brought him closer to her without her needing to look. She felt him tentatively brush her hair away from her face.

"I never want to stop dancing with you," he whispered. He was closer than she thought he was, and his breath landed gently against her cheek. "I just want us to be doing the same dance for once."

Jordan swallowed the lump in her throat as his arms made their way around her waist, holding her tightly. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, letting her arms encircle him as she let out a worried breath.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Just hold me tighter," she said.

And he did. His arms enveloped her small frame and he hoped that he could make her understand that all he wanted was her…all he would ever want was her. It was why he had to be so careful with her, try so hard to put them on the same page. And why he needed her assurance that things that were said in the heat of the moment did not vanish when normalcy returned. As fragile as her heart was, his was equally as vulnerable. He did not want to hurt her any longer, but he had to know that he was no longer in danger of being hurt. Having Jordan relaxed into his tight embrace told him all he needed to know. She wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm sorry," he whispered tenderly. "This week has just been…"

"I know," she murmured against his shoulder. "I know." He kissed her softly on the top of her head and rubbed his hands along her arms.

"You should go inside, you must be cold," he told her gently. As if on cue, Jordan shivered against a gust of wind and nodded.

"You coming?" she asked when he didn't follow her.

"Yeah," he said. "I just need a minute." She gave him a questioning look. Placing a finger under her chin, he kissed her softly and said, "We're good. I promise. Go on in."

Jordan gave him a grateful smile and turned to go inside, closing the door behind her. Woody took a deep breath and let it out. That was a conversation they probably should have had before things had taken the turn they did. It would have made everything less complicated. But, as was always the case, simple was a word that did not seem to be in their vocabulary. And dealing directly with the demons haunting their relationship instead of tiptoeing around them like usual was anything but simple. Hard as it had been, he was glad they faced their problems…he had found the courage to be honest with her, and she didn't shrink away from him this time. She fought…she fought for her emotions, fought for them.

Feeling that he had collected himself, Woody turned and reached for the doorknob. The door wouldn't open. He tried again and pushed forcefully against the door. It was locked.

"Jordan?" he shouted, feeling that something wasn't right. He couldn't see her through the window, couldn't hear anything from inside the house. He felt his stomach turn, and he heaved himself against the door to try get to her.

Jordan could hear Woody's attempts to break through the front door from her current position in the dark hallway upstairs. It surprised her that she could hear anything other than the racing of her heart ringing in her ears as she tensed against the cool metal of Woody's gun pressed against her throat.

"Don't even think about calling out to him."

The man's voice was low and raspy, with an irritating quality to it that sent chills down her spine. He had her pressed against the wall, facing him, her body pinned by his. He had appeared so quickly out of the shadows that Jordan hadn't gotten a good look at his face. Part of her was thankful for that. She didn't want to have to remember his face. Her mind worked at lightening speed, trying to think of anything to say to get her out of this situation.

"What are you doing this for?" she said, trying to distract him. "You don't even know me, why bother with me?"

"Shut up," he said harshly in her ear, shoving the barrel of the gun into the soft tissue below her jaw. Jordan sucked in a breath and winced. "It doesn't matter who you are. All that matters is that you're important to him…and I can take that away."

The words took on an eerily confident air as he brought his face close to hers, pressing her harder into the wall. For the first time, Jordan realized that more than her life might be in danger. She wanted to cry as the man slipped his hand under her shirt and pushed his hips against hers, his intentions with her becoming frighteningly clear. Jordan closed her eyes, waiting desperately for a moment when she could fight back, and preparing to let her mind go numb should the moment never arise. Woody, please…please, find a way…

The sound of shattering glass answered her silent prayer. It was enough to stop this man, though for how long she wasn't sure. He pulled away from her and grabbed her arm, wrenching her away from the wall. He turned her so that her back was to him, his arm wrapped roughly across her chest, leading her into Woody's room and kicking the door shut. The sound echoed through the house, and Jordan could hear Woody hit the stairs running.

"Jordan!" his voice called out, sick with fear.

The thought that this man was holding Woody's gun against her head flashed across Jordan's mind, and the consequences of Woody bursting in here unarmed left her terrified. Unable to warn him, she could only stand there, frozen with fear, as Woody flung the door open. She saw his eyes go wide in horror when this man pulled the gun away from Jordan and turned it on him. Woody nearly fell backwards against the doorframe, sliding down a few inches and holding his hands up in the air. For several agonizing seconds, the room was silent, Jordan's eyes locked on Woody, and his on the gun - his gun - pointed straight at him.

"There's no need to do this," Woody's voice came out much calmer than he felt. He had a hard time believing his own words. He no longer felt they had the power to change situations like this. "Please…just let her go. We can all walk away from this."

"You don't remember me, do you Hoyt?" the man said with disgust. Woody glanced at him blankly, having a hard time registering anything other than the gun. "Peter Anderson…the only student in school who had a harder time in life than you."

The wheels in Woody's mind turned furiously, putting it all together. Peter Anderson. The classmate his friends had told him about in the bar not four nights ago. Hospitalized for a nervous breakdown. Sent to live with his sister…a registered nurse. His mind worked to get a grasp on this, all the while focused on the fact that Jordan was still trapped in his arms.

"I don't understand, Peter," Woody tried talking him down. "What do you have to gain by doing this? Just let her go, she's nothing to you."

"I have everything to gain by doing this," Peter growled, returning the gun to Jordan's temple. Hot tears slipped down Jordan's cheeks, and she blinked to clear her vision. She could see Woody straighten a little, his hands still in the air. She had never seen him look so scared and so determined at the same time.

"Why David?" Woody kept trying, stalling for time. "What good did it do?"

"It brought you back here. Having her life in my hands is an added bonus," he said, his grip tightening on Jordan and his body stiffening as he watched Woody slowly stand upright. "I knew you would have to come back. And then I could finally get you back for what you did!"

"Tell me what I did, we can work this out."

"She moved away because of you, you bastard!" Peter shouted. The barrel of the gun pressed harder into Jordan's skin, and the distinct click of a gun about to be shot sounded like an explosion to her.

"Let her go, Peter, and you will walk away from this far better off than if you don't. Don't make things worse than they already are," Woody said firmly. He would be damned if he lost Jordan this way…not after all they had been through. He wouldn't let it happen.

"You shut up!" Peter yelled, angrily pointing the gun back at Woody.

Jordan's eyes locked with his. In that one second, something passed between them, and she knew she had to do something, anything, to end this. Before she could think twice, she flung her fist up into Peter's arm as hard as she could, taking him by surprise. His arm flew up, and a gunshot rang in the room. Woody's heart jumped at the sound, his body involuntarily shaking. It only took a moment for him to realize that the shot had gone into the ceiling as pieces of wood and dry wall fell to the ground. Flying into action, Woody ran at Peter's still upturned arm and grabbed the gun, twisting it mercilessly out of his grasp. Jordan loosed her elbow into his gut, hurtling herself away from him when his arm released her.

In the next second, Peter sat hunched over on the ground, moaning from Jordan's attack. Woody stood over him, his gun aimed for a lethal shot. Jordan stood slightly behind him, and couldn't help but notice that he held the gun with a steady hand. His chest was heaving, and there was sweat pooled on his skin…but his hand was steady. Her mind slowed down enough to allow for the thought that Woody was going to be all right.

Distantly, they heard the sounds of sirens approaching. Peter looked up at them, his body twitching as though he were thinking of fleeing.

"Don't even try it," Woody warned him threateningly, and Jordan heard the click of the gun being readied. "I sent an officer for the entire police force."

As soon as the police arrived at the house, they arrested Peter and took him to be interrogated. Woody told them to locate Peter's sister, telling them that she was likely an accessory to the murder, if not the actual murderer. Jordan was pulled aside to be interviewed, but Woody didn't let her out of his sight for even a second. During this time, the power was restored to the house, setting the lamps alight in the growing darkness of evening. When Jordan was done, they went to pack their things, planning on spending their last night at the Inn under the constant watch of an officer.

Woody had barely bothered to unpack, so it took hardly a minute for him to gather his things. As he left the room, he looked cautiously at the bullet hole that had been torn in the ceiling. He thought he could still feel the searing pain in his abdomen from months ago. It's over now, he thought. It's time to move on.

Seeing that Jordan's door was open, he knocked softly just to let her know he was there. She jumped a little, but relaxed when she saw that it was him. Alone for the first time since all of this had started, Woody felt a surge of emotion at the sight of her. It hit him all at once how close he was to losing her. Not saying a word, he walked over to her and took her in his arms, holding her like he would never let her go. Jordan let out a small gasp, slightly startled.

"Woody, it's okay," she smiled against his shoulder. "We're safe."

"I'm never letting you slip away from me like that again," he promised her. His words tumbled out of his mouth, referring to many things at once. "I never should have let you go in the first place. I thought I could survive without you…I can't. The thought of what could have happened to you…"

"But it didn't," she told him. "You saved me."

"No, Jordan," he said, burying his face in her hair. "You saved me."

Woody didn't bother asking Jordan if them sharing a room together at the Inn was all right. Not that he needed to. She was more than grateful to be close to him at the moment. It wasn't long before they heard from the police. Mike came over himself to tell them what they had found out.

A few details had been kept secret in regards to Peter Anderson's condition. The most important was that he was a diagnosed schizophrenic since the age of twenty. He had been unnaturally obsessed with Woody's old girlfriend, Annie, since their years in high school and kept a shrine to her until his sister found out and destroyed it. When Woody had been forced to end the relationship, Annie had moved away, married, and started a new life. Peter never got over it, his disease fueling his vicious feelings towards Woody. He blamed Woody for taking away his one chance at happiness in life.

Rather than tell anyone, Laura Anderson hid her brother's sickness and did her best to treat him herself. Last year, she finally had to admit him to a hospital. The time in treatment gave Peter the chance to plot his revenge for what he considered a horrible crime. He found out that Woody had been made executer of David's will, and knew that he would be forced to return to Wisconsin should anything happen to David. Using his sister's position as a nurse to get his hands on an anesthetic, Peter murdered David.

Just as Woody had suspected, Laura began to panic about what they had done. Peter threatened to kill her if she said anything. He watched Woody and Jordan closely from the beginning, narrowing his focus on Jordan when he saw hints of something more than friendship there. She became his intention for hurting Woody as much as possible.

They were both in custody now, and Peter was being treated for his condition. The confession came mostly from a distraught Laura, revealing years of disturbing behavior on the part of her brother. She had apologized over and over again for what she had been forced to do. Mike seemed just as shocked to be telling them this as Jordan and Woody felt hearing it. He left them assured that the Inn was being guarded very closely. Jordan sat down on the edge of the bed, completely caught off guard.

"I had no idea," Woody said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Doesn't sound like anybody did," Jordan told him. Woody sat beside her, taking her hand in his. "Are you all right?"

"I will be," he said. "It's a little freaky finding out you've been the object of someone's homicide fantasy for years…all for breaking up with a girl."

"I guess you'll think twice next time you want to break it off with someone," she said, echoing his slightly flippant tone. He laughed softly at her, tightening his hold on her hand. He looked down shyly.

"I don't plan on there being a next time," he said seriously.

Jordan looked at him. He looked up at her from beneath his lashes, melting her heart.

"Good," she said, her voice silvered with contentment.

Woody pulled her down onto the bed so that she was tucked against him, their faces inches apart. She rested her hands against his chest, enjoying the way he placed a protective hand on her hip. He kissed her softly before reaching across her to turn off the lamp, coming to rest even closer than he was before. He gently brushed his thumb against her cheek, planting kisses along her jaw line before meeting her lips again. Jordan smiled into his kisses. She could get used to ending every day like this.