Disclaimer- I dreamed I owned them, does that count?

Authors' Note- Okay, Garret's convinced he's screwed, what about Jordan? Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews and we hope you keep them up because, well, we are attention hounds.

Jordan POV

I walked into the conference room, slightly late, but not late enough for him to comment on it. It wasn't my fault the guy at the coffee shop around the corner ran out of cups. I meet his eyes as I walk in, there's something there that I don't quite recognize. It takes all my willpower not to walk over there, wrap my arms around him and kiss the life out of him.

We've hardly spoken since the other day when I said 'Screw this,' leaned in and kissed him. He's seemed to be avoiding me ever since. I thought it would be a good thing, to finally get it out of my system, kiss him and prove once and for all that there wasn't anything there.

But that was the problem, there was some thing there. Since then, the urge to drag him into my office, close the blinds and make good use of my couch had only increased instead of lessened. I only wanted his arms more, not less. Every time I see him the only thing I could think of is the way his lips were surprisingly soft and warm covering mine, how the hair that covered his chin was softer than it looked, his hand tangled in my hair...

It was driving me absolutely insane, thinking about it. But if the past week was any indication of what he thought, then I couldn't. He seemed to be avoiding me as much as possible, avoiding having to think of what I did in his office, no doubt. Trying to push that thought out of his mind.

It was driving the rest of the morgue crazy. Lily had already shipped me off to Stiles, since I wouldn't say what had happened. I didn't need the rest of them knowing that I had given in and kissed the boss and now he tried to avoid me. That I had just potentially screwed up the best friendship I had ever had.

I tried to push that thought out of my mind. Garret was the last thing I had left, I couldn't lose him. I didn't have Woody, I didn't have my father, I had no one left to turn to but Garret, and if I screwed things up forever between us, it was something that I didn't want to think about. I couldn't picture a life without him in it, my best friend, the one that I leaned on because I had nowhere else to turn.

I had been loathed to tell Stiles, but if nothing else, I could trust him. Trust him enough to not screw me over and blab to everyone. Trust him enough to at least try to give me guidance. But his advice was to do the one thing I couldn't do. He told me to just go for it. With a funny little gleam in his eye, as if he was picturing the two of us together and deciding it was a good idea.

He told me to just go for it, no second thoughts, no holds barred. But I couldn't do that. There was too much at stake. We could forget about a kiss, a week from now we could just pretend like it never happened, possibly even completely erase it from our minds, but another kiss? Something else?

Something else, like a proclamation of love. No, I certainly wouldn't say that. The last time I said 'I love you' to someone they told me to leave, and I've only seen him when work required since. Was it even love? I thought I had loved Woody, and what I felt was different from this.

I didn't even know what 'this' was, beyond being completely unable to stop thinking about him. 'This' was my need to be with him, to feel his arms around me. If nothing else to talk to him, I missed those teasing, bantering conversations that we had nearly every day before.

I have to do something about it though, at least tell him that it was a one time thing, lie and say that the kiss meant nothing to me, that we should just forget about it entirely, and go back to acting as if nothing ever happened. The meeting breaks up and I'm the last one left, and I walk over to him.

He looks as if he's trying to think of something to say that won't hurt me, as if he's trying to think of a way to leave or avoid this, or let me down easy. I don't care how he lets me down, I just need to know that this was just a one time thing that it's not going to matter. I just want to move on and find someone else to fall in love with, someone who isn't my best friend. Someone who isn't going to push me all the way to the edge if things to sour. I need him to tell me that it doesn't matter.

But yet, there is the little voice in the back of my head reminding me that he kissed me back. That after I had leaned back, he had sat there with a look on his face that I didn't quite know what to make of, and then leaned in and kissed me again. That he had tangled his fingers in my hair, pulling me close and driving me to the edge of orgasm with just a kiss.

There was that little voice in my head telling me that maybe it wouldn't completely screw things over to just come right out and tell him that he'd been haunting my dreams, to just kiss the life out of him, all consequences be damned. But there was the bigger voice telling me that this was my best friend, that he would only ever think of me as someone that he watched out for, that while he may love me, he would never love me in that way.

Suddenly he seems to regain his awareness of what's going on and he gets up to close the conference room door. He's wearing jeans, he was supposed to have the day off but Nigel was almost hacking up a lung. I couldn't help but stare as he walked, wishing that he would wear jeans more often. If there was one thing that Woody did not compare to him with it was in the butt department. I had commented playfully about it before, but it had never really crossed my mind to realize just how nice it was.

How many times had I playfully pinched, grabbed and swatted it? And now I wanted to, I wanted to just reach out and feel his arms around me. I wanted to just be close to him in some way shape or form. His dark eyes met mine as he sat back down. "We need to talk." He said. The words that were the kiss of doom for most relationships, but they were necessary.

"Yeah." I agreed, sitting down next to him taking a long contemplative gulp of my coffee, wondering what exactly to tell him.

A/N- Hey, they're our characters and we want to slap some sense into them too.