Disclaimer: Sadly enough, no matter how much I wish it were so, I do not own the characters of Crossing Jordan.
Nigel struggled to remove the keys from their place in his car. First he tried jiggling them lightly, but soon he found himself yanking as hard as he could, bracing his foot on the edge of the seat. His efforts where in vain however; the keys remained stuck firmly and stubbornly where they were.
"Damn," Nigel muttered angrily to himself. What a bloody perfect way to begin his morning. He stared helplessly at the building looming above him, at the doors only feet away.
Already late, he was tempted to just walk in, leaving his keys where they were. But years as a Boston M.E. meant that Nigel knew all too well the sort of crime one could find in this city. If he left now, his car would be gone when he returned. He groaned slightly and continued trying to pry his keys loose. It was still no use; his sweaty fingers simply slid over the key's metallic surface.
"Need some help?"
Nigel stopped dead and glared at the clear sky above him. Clearly someone up there didn't like him, because there was only one thing that could have made his situation worse, and she was standing right behind him.
"Nige?" Jordan said, now walking up to him.
Why me? Nigel willed himself not to go red as he turned around to face her. "Yeah…" he said. "Umm…you see…the think is…" He wondered how to best phrase his problem without sounding like a complete idiot. He was saved the trouble however when Jordan walked right past him and proceeded towards his car. Nigel's relief was short lived however, as Jordan promptly yanked the keys free and held them out for him.
God. Now I really look like an idiot…
He took the keys, not looking into Jordan's smiling face, and muttered, "Thanks," before walking away.