Chapter 12

Fall Out

In Boston, winter gives way to spring. The city workers are busily planting pansies in flowerboxes along the streets trying to bring a slash of color for their winter-weary residents. Jordan barely noticed. Other than taking her coats to the cleaners, each day melted into the next...and that was the way she liked it.

Outwardly nothing had changed. She seemingly left the ordeal of having her life turned upside down with a grain of salt. While Jordan was saying goodbye to her father one more time, Macy expedited the Krouchkovs' autopsies. He wanted them and IAD out of his morgue before Jordan came back.

All of his haste was for nothing. Jordan came back only hours after being shot at. Garret was ready for just about anything, except for the reaction he got. She barely looked at the bodies and matter of factly, told the officers to just do their job. At the time, her utter detachment seemed strange, but welcome.

During the cleanup investigation, the brothers kill book surfaced. Jordan didn't bat an eyelash. She barely flinched when Roz told how the diary detailed how long they had been watching her. It spelled out minute particulars about her personal information and lifestyle. Everyone was mildly confused when Jordan treated the whole thing with a shrug.

A few weeks later, Jordan's flippant attitude changed to one of cool professionalism. Overnight, she closed herself off from any personal interactions that were not necessary. The collective worry doubled and a few interventions were attempted. Jordan was able to dodge them all.

One perfect spring evening two months after the shootings, Garret looked up from his desk to see Jordan handing him a pile of reports.

"Okay, I admit I got a little long winded...but hey, you can never say too much about cerebrovascular disease..." Jordan said with a lopsided smile.

"Never," he said tossing the reports on a growing pile of paperwork he had to sign off on. "Let's go out and get something to eat. It's beautiful out. Maybe alfresco at Jimmy D.'s? There's a trio tonight. We can get drunk and try to forget why we do this every day."

Jordan leaned back against the doorframe. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I'll pass..."

"Come on Jordan. There is nothing on your desk that can't be done tomorrow. When was the last time you left this building before midnight? As your boss I'm telling you...no, ordering you to take a break."

Jordan's eyebrow arched high on her forehead. "This from a man that has put me under house arrest to make sure I get my paperwork done."

Garret pulled her into his office and gestured for her to have a seat on the couch before he shut the door.

"I'm worried about you Jordan. We all are..."

Jordan's smile faded. She thought these little well meaning talks were finally over. Everybody else seemed to take the hint when she refused to be cornered into to talking about wounds that were better left to fester on their own. Heaven knows she dwelled on them enough in those dark, lonely hours before her alarm could go off. No, she didn't want to face them ever. Jordan tried to stand up and leave.

When Garret put a gentle, yet restraining hand on her shoulder and Jordan pasted on what she hoped was a sincere smile.

"If this is about that whole cold-case-from-hell-thing, I'm fine. It wasn't the first time I found myself on the wrong end of a gun and knowing my karma, it won't be the last. I don't see any reason to put any effort into second guessing or...worrying about something I was powerless to do anything about anyway. Just drop it, please."

"It's not that Jordan. It's this, busy work" he said softly, and pointed to the files on his desk. "After Hoyt's shooting, you buried yourself into your work. And just when it looked like you were really ready to let go, the Rosen case was reopened. I don't know all the details, but something happened."

"I had two crazy Russians take potshots at me, "Jordan lamely joked. "End of story."

When she tried to stand again Garret didn't stop her, but he made no move to step out of her way. Jordan had no choice but to sit back down...which she did in a huff. Garret was reminded of Abby when she knew she was going to get a lecture. He sat down next to her hoping to set her at ease.

"I don't want to delve into your private life Jordan, but as a friend, I'd like to help. What happened?"

Garret's sincerity touched Jordan is a way that took her by surprise. How often in the last few weeks had she been asked to talk? She loved her friends. They were more of a family then her own. But she still shied away from confiding in them. She didn't want their sympathy...or their advice. What she wanted was...

She didn't know what she wanted and for the first time since that heartbreaking day, one month ago, she felt herself tear up.

Jordan brushed her hands across her face, desperately trying to mask her emotions. She laughed self-consciously and tried to brush off her reaction with a few mumbled words of feminine denial.

Garret saw through them immediately and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Her neck bowed as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders.

Slowly, she surrendered and let her head rest against his. Jordan missed this. For all her independence, the motherless child inside her needed the physical contact of another human being. She'd let him talk, but there was no rule that said she had to listen.

"You can talk to me, Jordan. Did something happen between Winslow and Max while they were in town?"

"I wish it were that easy," she sighed.

"Hoyt." he said evenly, like that one word said it all. In a way it did.

They all knew what had happened between Jordan and Woody after shooting. As a result, Woody's stock didn't go up to far in anybody's eyes. It was thing to end a relationship because it wasn't it the cards, but it was another to walk away because of some misplaced notion of perfect timing.

"Jordan, don't you think you've kicked yourself around enough over him?"

Jordan gave Garret and watery smile not agreeing or disagreeing with his argument.

"The last time I heard he moved on...It's your turn, it's past your turn, Jordan."

"He, um, broke up with her during the investigation."

"...Oh."

"I guess she thought he was taking the case too personally."

After the dust cleared in what should have been an easy IAD investigation, it became public that Woody went around his chain of command to protect Jordan. In hindsight, it was the right decision. Woody was cleared with a slap on the wrist, but everybody wondered if he would have made the same choices if it were anybody other than Jordan.

"Did she think you were getting close again...?" Garret led.

"No. I don't know. I guess. I really don't know."

"Did you? I mean did she have a reason to worry...?"

Jordan sat up. She wasn't comfortable with where this conversation was heading. "I thought you said you weren't going to get personal."

"I lied. There were a lot of details left out of Hoyt's report and your statement..."

"Since when do you make a habit out of reading police reports, Garret?"

"When they deal with the well being of one of my people I'm damn straight I'm going to read them."

Jordan looked away she didn't want to believe Garret would use his position to delve into something that wasn't his business. Yet, somehow she felt reassured, almost loved, that he cared enough to do so.

She pulled her knees up to her chin and said, "I wasn't happy about being locked away. We had a fight. In the middle of the night he came to check on me and we started in on each other again. We both said and...did… things we knew we'd regret. Before I knew it, one thing led to another and..." she trailed off, her voice little more than a whisper, her stomach in knots.

It didn't take much for Garret to add two and two together. The only difference was Jordan and Woody were the only two that knew that that night was the first and only time they had sex. The rest of their circle wrongly assumed they're relationship was a little more physical long before Woody's injury. His reaction was a little less shocked than Jordan thought it would be.

"So you relived a few memories. It happens. I know. Look at Maggie and me. You make mistakes. You make mistakes. You get rid of a little left over lust and you move on," he shrugged.

"Memories?" Jordan snorted. "The only memory I have is an angry quickie between shooting matches."

"..Oh Jordan," Garret sighed compassionately. What little respect he had left for Hoyt was evaporating quickly.

"At least you have Abby...so everything wasn't a mistake," Jordan said wryly.

"...Yes." The comment took Garret by surprise. He couldn't help but remember Maggie's pregnancy scare during their own disastrous 'left over lust'.

His face grew serious and he looked her in the eye. "Are you telling me you're...?"

"No," Jordan answered with a mirthless chuckle. "You don't need to worry about being short handed. I'm not pregnant."

Garret didn't like the way Jordan hugged her legs tighter. "Why do I have a feeling you are not breathing a sigh of relief?"

"A few years ago I forgot to get my prescription refilled. I could never seem to find the time to get around to it, so I said screw it. It wasn't like I was getting any anyway. So when Woody and I...it wasn't planned. And as far as timing went, it couldn't have been worse. For the first week I didn't want to think about it and then I figured what the hell. You know, I'm not getting any younger..."

"So you thought if you were pregnant, your mistake would worth it."

"In the back of my mind… yes...maybe. I decided if I was going to have a baby, there was no way I could get rid of it. I would have kept it. I just wasn't prepared for the disappointment I felt when there wasn't one. It's ridiculous, but I still feel that way."

"You have time Jordan..."

"I guess the bright side is I don't have to tell my kid I was knocked up during a one night stand with a pizza delivery man at a motel that charged by the hour."

Woody rolled his stiff neck and dribbled the basketball twice before lobbing it in the basket. The sound echoed around the empty gymnasium. The pick up game was over. Everyone else bailed an hour ago.

Woody snorted and told himself it couldn't be his charming personality and impeccable sportsmanship that drove them away.

It was so much easier BGS. It's funny how he thought of his life before getting shot and after. He vaguely remembered the shrink telling him he'd look at life that way until he put it all behind him.

Leighanne. He hasn't seen or heard from her in two months. After spending two years together he should feel more then just a little guilt.

On the other hand, he sees Jordan almost daily and he all he can think of is how much he misses her smile.

He heaved the ball at the wall of the gym and watched, with little satisfaction, as it ricocheted across the court.

The last two months he lived in a shell. He worked, he went home, and he avoided everybody and everything.

His dreams now had vivid details that weren't there before. He'd wake up smelling her perfume, believing that if he reached to the opposite side of the bed she'd be there.

Even now, all he had to do was close his eyes and he could see her eyes melt with the depth of his kiss. He could feel her long legs wrapped tightly around his waist urging him on. And if he held his breath he could still hear the soft catch in the back of her throat just before she came...

"Detective Hoyt?" asked a detached voice from the back of the gym. "We're getting ready to close up now..."

Woody reopened his eyes just as a bank of lights was being turned off. He had one idea how long he was just standing there, but his basketball was lying benignly inside his gym bag. He rubbed the back of his neck trying to chase the ghosts of his hallucinations away.

"Ah, thanks..." Woody waved automatically, scooping up his belongings, and headed out the door.