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Part Eleven: Each and Every Day

August 25, 2006

Just after four in the morning Jordan found January's murder. She read the report three times, made notes and then set it aside. She took a very long shower, changing into scrubs and half-heartedly wishing for the days she'd stayed at the morgue and been assured of a change of clean clothes. More or less clean clothes. Still rubbing her eyes, she went down to get coffee, thanking God that the little place on the corner opened at five.

Coffee and a paper in hand, she returned to her office to stare owlishly at the front page and read the lead article about ten times – at least the first two sentences, that is. Around six-thirty her cell phone rang. She groaned when she read the caller i.d. "Hi, Woody."

"Jordan, where the hell are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I came by your place to bring you breakfast and you're not here. It worried me!"

She smiled. "I'm at work."

There was a long pause. "You said you were going home."

"I know. But I got some – ah – inspiration." She hunched forward, resting her elbows on her desk. "I found January's murder, Woody."

"Your breakfast and I are on our way."

XXXXX

When Woody had finished reading the file, he looked up at Jordan, who was thoroughly enjoying the warm, flaky croissant he'd brought her – and more coffee. "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"But – But – Jordan, this is-"

"I know! And it's why we couldn't find the vic before! We were looking for a woman."

He nodded, his eyes still wide with disbelief. "Jordan, I don't want to-"

"Woody, I know it's weird, but you read the file!" She gestured to the folder still open in front of him. "The vic was a female impersonator. Brunette like the other vics. A model like the others. And he died in a way that didn't raise any eyebrows at the time, but when you put it with the others…."

Woody took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. "It's just so – strange." He sipped his own coffee. "What made you think of it anyway?"

She grinned. "A new security guard."

"Huh?"

Her grin widened. "I was about to leave – really, I was – and there was this new security guard walking ahead of me. Long, blond ponytail, slender build – I thought it was a woman. As I got closer though I could smell this really strong aftershave. I thought it was odd and muttered something-" Woody raised an eyebrow at her. She ignored him. "So, the guard turned around."

"And turned out to be a man."

Jordan nodded. "Which made me think about how we'd never been able to find January's victim. I figured it was worth a shot."

"And you were on target."

"Looks like it." She screwed up the croissant wrapper and tossed it toward the trash can. It went in easily. "It must be my day."

For a moment, the detective studied her. "I don't want to –uh- rain on your parade, but I'm not sure how much this really helps."

"Woody! Come on, one male victim and seven females. We've got to be able to find some connection between all of them."

He didn't reply, just nodded, knowing Jordan was already off on the scent of a lead and nothing he could say would deter her. Instead he finished his coffee. When he had, he stood up and sedately threw his cup away before perching himself on the edge of her desk, looking down into her upturned face. "If it's there, you'll find it." He reached out a hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Just be careful, Jo." He leaned closer to her and kissed her softly. "As much as I want this case closed for all sorts of reasons, I don't want you to do anything impulsive."

She gave him an innocent look. "Me? Impulsive? When?"

He chuckled at her. "Promise me."

She put out a hand and scrubbed it through his hair. "I'll be careful."

Woody sighed. "That's going to have to do, isn't it?"

Her nod answered him just before she touched her lips to his again. This kiss was not as soft or chaste as the one that had preceded it. Jordan's arms were around his neck, her palms pressing his mouth to hers. He ran his hands up and down her arms, making her shiver. When they broke apart, he murmured, "I could get used to starting the day this way."

Her smile was luminous, but her eyes were cool.

XXXXX

Jordan's day was busy with a variety of autopsies that prevented her from looking for the connection she was certain existed. On her way out of her office, she grabbed the stack of notes she'd made over the last few months, determined to sit down with them at home. She was in the elevator when Woody called. She told him what she planned on doing and he volunteered to bring the take-out and beer. For a heart stopping moment, Jordan almost told him no. Too much like old times her brain said, and her heart agreed – for totally different reasons.

"Jordan?"

She heard the puzzlement in his voice and the slight undertone of accusation and resignation. "Yeah, sure. Sounds great."

Did it though? In some ways, things were easier now. They were back on speaking terms, and then some, but Jordan could still guard her heart from him. The truth for her was that deep down as much as she wanted him in her life, as much as she needed him in her life, she was still scared. Right now, she could control things, as she almost always had. If that ended… if that ended, she'd have to be the grown up he thought she was now. She'd have to take the leap of faith that never came easily for her – if it ever came at all.

By the time Woody arrived, she had changed into sweats and a t-shirt and gotten her nerves more or less settled. Her heart twisted at the ease with which he recalled the minutia of her lifestyle. Plates and napkins were found without hesitation. He handed her the mu shu shrimp first and watched her fix herself a pancake while he opened the beers. She could feel the strength of his gaze on her and the clear longing in his eyes as she focused on her meal.

After a few bites of his own food, he put down the chopsticks. "Too domestic for you, Jordan?"

She looked up, her eyes wide. "What? No, it's fine." Her smile was bright, but brittle.

"I thought we were being honest with each other."

She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it against the futile insistence on the tip of her tongue.

"What is it? Because I'm kind of enjoying this. It's like old times."

She sighed. "And that doesn't worry you?"

"Should it?" His expression was even and neutral, but she could hear the anxiety laced into the edge of his voice.

"I don't know. I'm not sure."

He nodded. "Of what? You? Me? Us?"

"Yes," she agreed.

He gave her a small laugh. "The more things change…?

She put down her food. "Woody, I'm not good at the whole relationship … thing."

"I thought you said the sex was great."

She blushed. "That part I'm good at." Jordan shook her head. "It's the other stuff. Trusting myself to – to – to be with someone and not screw up their life. Trusting someone else not to screw up my life because I pretty much have that covered on my own."

Woody pursed his lips. "You told me you wanted there to be us. Have you changed you mind, Jo?"

She put a hand to her forehead, swallowing the hot tears in her throat. "No. I – I need you in my life. I want you in my life-"

He moved closer to her, cupped her head in his hand and drew her to him. In a gruff whisper, he asked, "And in your bed? Or do we go back to the way it was?"

"No, no. No! I – I don't want to go back, Woody." She took a shaky breath. "I don't know if I can explain it."

"Try."

She slipped from his hold and rested against the back of the couch. She bit her lower lip until it stung. "I – I've always needed to be in control."

"I noticed," he interrupted with a slight smile.

She dipped her head for a moment. "I – I kept you at a distance because I … could, I guess. And then – then I got that phone call and - I told you before, everything I was afraid of vanished. I was ready to – to let go of that control." She sniffed.

Woody took a deep breath. "And I told you to get out of my life."

Jordan nodded.

"Which leaves us where now?"

She turned her head and looked at him. With one gentle finger, she traced a trail down his jaw line.

"Jordan?"

"I want to be at that point again, Woody. I really do." But I'm terrified went unsaid, but not unheard by his heart.

"Jo, what happened before… I – I had a lot of – emotions inside that I spent a long time denying. With Riggs, it all came crashing down and the person I blamed for the debris was you." He ran a hand over her hair. "I had a lot of if onlys in my head. If only some other detective had caught that bank job. If we hadn't broken down in the desert. If you hadn't turned down that ring." He snorted softly. "My life was supposed to be different than it was, Jordan, and, lying in that hospital bed, I decided you were the reason it hadn't turned out the way I wanted." He caught her gaze with his. "I was wrong."

"Were you?"

He nodded. "Dead wrong. I had choices along the way. The truth is I made my choices – you. Always you." He took her hand, respecting the space she'd created. "I'm always going to choose you. If you let me."

She closed her eyes, but held tightly to his hand. "I wanted to have this conversation – later." She swallowed.

"We seem to be having it now."

"I jumped once before, Woody. It took me a damn long time to do it – I know. But I did."

He put his arm around her and nudged her until she rested against him. With his free hand, he tilted up her chin. His mouth was soft against hers, his lips deft and teasing. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, tasting her when she opened to him. His arm around her tightened, and the kiss deepened. He buried his hand in the dark waves of her hair as his lips pressed more firmly against hers. She pulled away, breathing heavily. He cradled her head in his hand. "Jump, Jo. Jump again. I promise I'll be there this time."

She looked into his face, her eyes bright with the sheen of unshed tears.

He took her face in his hands. "Jordan." His voice was urgent, pleading. His thumbs brushed along her cheekbones. He could feel the pounding of her heart and he watched as her face flushed more deeply from the racing of her blood. He followed the light touch of his fingers with his lips, letting his mouth follow the strong curves of her face until their lips met again. He whispered her name again and this time she replied. Her one word response made him smile against her. Catch.

Her hands were on his shoulders, her fingers kneading the muscles. Her body slid down, drawing him along until they were stretched on her couch, their lips never parting. They breathed through each other's kisses, and their tongues danced slowly one against the other, the frenzy of her office abated, replaced by a flame just as hot but more sustained. He found the hem of her t-shirt and tugged it up, baring her flesh to his fingers. She gasped as pleasure so fierce it was almost an ache raced through her. His hands skimmed along her sides as he eased her out of the shirt. He finally released her mouth to kiss his way down the column of her throat while his hands slipped her bra straps down and he eased the cups down. She moaned throatily when his fingers brushed the stiff peaks of her nipples. Her fingers wound themselves into his hair and she dragged him back up to her mouth. He kissed her, the tempo increasing with the easy sweep and swirl and his thumbs along her breasts. Her moans became more frequent, verging on frantic, and her hands untangled themselves from his hair to go to work on the buttons of his shirt. He gave a small yelp as she sent the last one flying, its stitching sundered by her growing frenzy.

"Jordan!"

She laughed. "Sorry."

He grinned down at her. "No, you're not."

She brought her head up to his and gave him a teasing kiss. "Are you?"

He shook his head. "No." He looked down at her, drinking her in with his eyes as he hadn't been able to before. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders, curls and tangles framing her face. Her skin glowed with desire, satin to his touch. He bent his head to her neck, kissing her again, reveling in the soft sighs she made. "Are you sure about this?"

She cupped his face in her hands and smiled at him, nodding slowly.

"Really sure, Jordan? Because I don't think I can go back. Last time was… different. This time it's for real. We're for real."

Wordlessly, she pushed him away, gently. She stood up and held out her hand. "Come on, Farm Boy." She grinned headily. "Time for a reality check."

His eyes flared with the fullness of his desire. He took the proffered hand and followed her as she padded softly across the room to her bed. They undressed each other slowly, certainty of one another's intentions giving them the luxury of time. Woody picked up where he'd left off on the couch, his fingers teasing gasps and moans from her as he catalogued the touches that sent shockwaves through her. Where his fingers explored, his lips soon followed to Jordan's delight. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, her heart racing when he finally worked his back to her mouth. Her body ached for him and from her heart all doubts had been banished.

He moved over her, letting her guide him into her receptive body. They both moaned at the moment of this most intimate contact. Woody stopped, trembling, fighting for control, wanting the sweetness, the intense pleasure to be drawn out as long as possible. He still felt a slight guilt over the last time. Rough, heated, primal, he'd taken her and, even if she'd wanted to give herself to him, he should have had more restraint. This time he was determined to give, not take. She shattered his intentions by wrapping her legs around his waist and urging him deeper into her as her hips moved in a slow, irresistible rhythm.

Still, he felt her body clench around him and knew she was lost in the passion as he was. Her nails dug into his back as her cries danced in the air around them. He murmured her name as he flew over the edge after her. Collapsing against her, his lips found her again and he kissed her softly, tenderly. "God, Jo. You're amazing."

"You're not too bad yourself," she told him, grinning, sated.

He wrapped his arms around her and rolled her over so that she lay on top of her. The last thing he wanted to do was lose contact with her, but she was much lighter on him than he would be. She laid her head on the pillow next to him, content to remain draped over him, his heat and scent enveloping her. His hands prowled restlessly up and down her back, stopping to comb tangles from her hair. They kissed lazily, breaking apart often to stare into each other's eyes. They both felt it when his body was ready again and they made love slowly, the pleasure sinking deep into their muscles and bones.

Only after did a realization strike Woody. It was one that made him groan.

"What?" Jordan's voice was sleepy.

"I – uh – We – I mean – We didn't take any precautions. Unless you're…?"

She shook her head.

"Not that it would be a bad thing. Just the timing…."

She grinned at him. "Quit worrying. It's not the right time."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Are you sure?"

She reached over him, opening the top drawer of the bedside stand. She fished blindly for a moment and then drew out a small date book. There was enough light from the front of the loft to show him.

"You keep – keep track? Even though you're… not…?"

She chuckled. "I'm a doctor, Farm Boy. And it's not a bad idea for any woman to keep track. So, yeah. And it's safe. We're safe. In fact, we've got about…." Her eyes widened.

"Jordan?"

The calendar dropped from her nerveless fingers. "I get it."

"What? Get what? Jordan."

She looked at him. "I understand the different M.O.'s."

END Part Eleven