"Morning Jordan... Pleasant nap?" Nigel quipped as he waltzed into Jordan's office. She grumbled and sat up, wiping a bit of drool from her cheek. "What's so bad about sleeping in your apartment?"

She ignored his backhanded comment and took the Egg Mcmuffin hanging from his long fingers. "None of your Buisness." she snapped. "I just haven't wanted to go home lately." she took a huge bite from the side of the sandwich, her mouth full. Nigel grimaced.

"Ugh, here love, use a napkin."

"Thanks." She muttered her mouth full.

"What have we got?" she asked, pick up a file that she had been lying on and wiping the salvia and mascara from it.

"Apparently a pillow... thank god nothing ever came of us love, your not so cute in the morning." she rolled her eyes and gave him a shot of the inside of her mouth, bits of food and all. "Gross, a Domestic Violence case in Cambridge... a mother shot and killed along with her four year old little girl... Woody's the responding Detective." he whispered the last part, but to his surprise she jumped right up.

"Great, could you call ahead and tell him that I'll be right there?" Nigel looked at her bewilderedly.

"Um, yeah sure... don't you want to pass the case over to me or Bug or Sidney?"

"No...Why?" she asked with a shrug.

"Because you hate Woody... told everyone in the department he was dying of some exotic form of malaria... slit the tires of his car... left nasty messages at the precinct... any of this ring-ringing a bell?"

"You know Saturday we really got to talking... I think I want to be friends with him again... life's too short to hold grudges." with that she walked out... leaving Nigel puzzled behind her... a half eaten egg Mcmuffin sitting discarded on her desk.

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The crime scene was chaotic as usual. And suddenly Jordan felt an old peace coming over her, Woody held up the crime scene tape. Garrett was talking to the press. Bug was taking pictures... maybe things were starting to go back to normal again, that was something she craved, commonplaceness... something she could go home to.

"Hi yah Jordan..." Woody started, his face somber "I have to warn you first off this is a hard case... a really, really, really, really hard case." his face was ashen and angry. Jordan breathed in and walked into the house, not quite prepared for the sight she was about to see.

The house was covered in blood. The crimson tide spilled all over the white walls; fairly glowing in the early day's light... she sighed and followed the bloody footprints into the kitchen where she nearly fainted. Suddenly images and still frames ran past her in bloody images... god, it was too much. This dark haired woman lying sprawled out on the floor, her hair matted with blood, her face smeared red... her eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling, clouded over and dull. She turned like she was going to run... her legs gave beneath her and suddenly she was in Woody's arms.

"Easy... Easy Jordan... I told you... Jesus." Woody consoled "You haven't even seen the worst part yet..." he petted her hair and let her into Garrett's waiting arms. She swallowed hard and stood on wobbly legs.

"Where is the little girl?"

"Jamy Monroe... four years old was found in the broom closet of her kitchen shot to death." Woody said, his skin white and sticky like pancake batter. Jordan moved for the closet... not looking at the dark haired woman lying on the floor. "Jo, I wouldn't... please have Garrett or Bug does it... Please." he begged as her hand rested on the door handle.

"Woody." she said matter-of-factly, "Shut up."

The little girl was more beautiful than Jordan had expected. Her multi-blonde curls were in her face and her snow-white skin was smudged with blood. Jordan covered her mouth with her slender hand and stooped in the tiny space. She was beautiful in every way... she was in tiny little overalls and a red tee shirt. Her little hands were limp and a bit damp. "Can we get some swabs in here please?" Jordan asked, her voice cracking slightly. Garrett and Woody shared a look. Bug handed her the swabs wordlessly.

Jordan picked up the little girls chubby hand and saw her little white palms dotted with little drops of blood dried black. She fell to the ground, a tear running down her cheek. "Jordan." Woody said softly, reaching out to her, she allowed him to lift her up and take her to his chest. She sobbed silently into his chest. "Come on, we'll get you home... two M.E's are enough for one case anyways."

She didn't put up a fight for once in her life. She let him drive her home, walk her up her stairs and unlock her door. He paused there.

"Get some sleep please..." he whispered, wiping a stray strand of hair from her face. She nodded

Just as he was about to leave he heard her mutter something. "What?" he asked, walking towards her door again?

"I said, how could someone do that? to a little girl, she never did anything to him... she never hurt anybody who would kill her?" she looked down at the floor and back up at him, suddenly she was aware of everything they had been through, that old feeling of suspicion entered and he saw it in her eyes as she backed away from him.

"Jo, don't go away okay... sick people do sick things... it's a part of the world, you should no that better than anyone right?"

"Who would do that to her?" she whispered again this time he didn't know if she meant the little girl or her mother.

"I don't know Jordan, I don't know... that's why we are here, to find out who would do something so evil... right?" he whispered, feeling her wariness radiating off of her.

"I'm going to go inside now, okay Detective." she said coldly "I'd like to be alone."

It was the iciness in her tone that caught him off guard. "Wait a minute... Jordan, I thought we were starting to be friends again... I thought at least we were starting fresh, while I know it'll take time ... you have to let me in... I know it isn't easy to forgive... believe me I know... but please, just open up a little." he begged, the last sentence was a faint whisper.

"Good night Woody," she said kissing his cheek faintly and shutting the door behind her... in all retrospects. Woody lingered a moment, knowing it was his fault all along but not being able to admit it. He rested his head against her blood red door and sighed.

"Jordan, Let me in... Please..." when no answer came he turned and walked away, hands in his pockets and his blue eyes the color of faded denim staring at the floor, caked with mud... it was too late, she was gone.

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