A/N-See? Jordan doesn't need Woody, Jordan has Garret. Garret loves her. And well, c'mon folks, I'm a Garret/Jordan shipper-you honestly think I'm going to write something that involves the two of them and them not getting together? It's a classic Hurt/Comfort fic. Long Slow Burn was the hurt part, this is the comfort part...which means lots and lots of fluffy sap...
The crime scene was fairly bland and boring compared to some he had worked. Both a blessing and a curse. Some gangbanger who crossed the wrong man. Easy case, in and out, pull the bullet out, find out what if any substances the victim was using, and pass it on to the cops. It was nice, he didn't have to invest all of his time and energy, but it was bad for that exact same reason.
"Young male, id unknown-" Jordan began as he started marking off the required preliminary paperwork, writing down everything that Jordan recited back to him. He had to fight back a groan when he saw who appeared with an irate look. Woody. The boy wonder was there with some attractive arm piece and the boy looked pissed.
"Right, please say that this is an easy case, I don't like being interrupted from dinner-" He was at her side as she looked up. He saw the way she squared her shoulders, attempting to portray confidence and hide the pain he knew she felt. He was right there for her, giving her his support.
"At the moment it looks like just another gang death. Hope it's worth interrupting your diner, detective." If Woody felt anything at all at her dig, he didn't show it. He really wasn't fond of the new detective-ever since the shooting the boy had changed, no longer light and cheery and naïve, now there was a hard, almost cold man in place of what had been a fun and free spirited one.
"Right, well hurry up." He fought the urge to glare at the detective who had gone back to the arm candy he had brought, apologizing profusely. He made a point of working as slowly as he could, ensuring that he was annoying Woody. He could feel the boy's impatient eyes on him and he didn't care.
The boy had been foolish and a bastard to Jordan. Making the boy and his date wait was the least of what he could do to try and ruin the boy's life. Or at least ruin it enough for the boy to see what an idiot he was and stop hurting Jordan. Woody didn't deserve her, the boy wasn't good enough for her, he couldn't think of anyone who was, but he would settle for anyone who made her happy.
Woody had been that one, Woody made her happy, but the boy had changed, made her hurt. And he didn't want to see her hurt, ever. She had turned back to work, purposely ignoring Woody and the other woman. He didn't blame her. "You OK?" He asked in a quiet tone as they both crouched over the body and she nodded.
"Yeah." Her tone said she wasn't, but she wasn't going to let this get under her skin, he knew her too well.
"Thank you for your findings, doctor." Woody got back at her earlier dig at him as he skimmed the notes she had, copying down the key points.
"Have a nice evening, Woody." She said as she climbed into the van next to him. He looked over at her as soon as they had pulled away.
"He still gets under your skin?" He asked her sympathetically and she nodded.
"Every time I think I'm over him, something happens and I realize that I'm not. And seeing him with something like that-a blond bimbo that'd only have two brain cells if she was pregnant-what do men see in those types anyway?" He shrugged. He had been married to one and he struggled to find that same answer.
"It takes time Jordan, you'll get over him, eventually." She shrugged.
"I know, it's just taking longer than I want it to." He grinned at her.
"He's not worth the tears though, if he doesn't want you, that's his own damn fault." A small smile crossed her face.
"I screwed up our relationship, I kept running, I loved him and still pushed him away, I don't blame him for getting sick of the way we ran circles around each other. I didn't do anything, hell, we barely even kissed-and he kept following me around, I don't blame him for finally having enough." They pulled to a halt in front of the morgue.
"Jordan, you didn't do anything-"
"That's the problem, that I didn't do anything." He put his arm around her pulling her close. He was surprised at his desire to tear the boy limb from limb for making her second guess herself like this, for making her hurt.