Author: AthenaIceGoddess

Title:Jumping In

Author: AthenaIceGoddess

Spoilers: Jump Push Fall

Angst/Romance/Drama

Summary: Just my take on what might happen post Jump Push Fall. Lots of WJ angst, so if you aren't a shipper... probably shouldn't read this one

Disclaimer: I own no part of Crossing Jordan. If I did, do you think I would be writing fanfiction?

Chapter 4

Jordan slammed the door of the van and jammed the key in the ignition, and was about to turn it on when a hand enveloped her own. She turned her head and Bug squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"What did he say this time?" He asked, letting her start the engine. She just shook her head. "He is such a creep! You know what he told me?" Bug shook his head, trying to hide his amusment. The only person Jordan ever got this angry at was Woody. It was just a matter of time before they gave up the dance they were doing and realized they were perfect for one another.

"I was just trying to help, and he blew me off! Again! This is the last time I offer my assistance to that... ugh!" She gritted her teeth and concentrated on driving, before she ended up crashing. He was hardly worth getting killed for.

Twenty minutes later, jordan pulled into the morgue. They took the body into trace, and began the autopsy without any further ado.

"What's that in her hand?" Bug asked, pointing to Mary's clenched hand. It looked like she was holding something, and Jordan slowly opened her hand. A small piece of paper was folded there, and Jordan opened it.

"Well, that's unexpected." Jordan said, looking up at Bug with an unreadable expression. "What does it say?"He asked. She handed it over, and he scanned it. "'Jordan Cavanaugh'. What do you think this means? Do you know her?" Bug asked, but Jordan shook her head no. "Never seen her in my life."

Bug frowned. "But why would she have a piece if paper in her hand, if you didn't know her? It dosen't make any sense. Jordan, you don't think maybe she took it off of the killer in the struggle?" Jordan didn't want to think about what that meant if it was true, so she grabbed a kit to analyse the paper. Maybe they would get lucky and there would be a finger print.

"Only one way to find out." She said, starting the analysis.

It was after eleven when Jordan finally got home. It seemed everyone picked that day to die, and body after body rolled through the morgue. Car accidents, a suicide, hit and run, food poisoning, even a victim of electrical shock. She was exhausted when she walked down the hall to her apartment, but her energy level spiked when she saw her door slightly ajar.

"I know I locked that before I left this morning." She said, pulling out her cell phone and calling the first person that sprang to mind. "Hoyt." The familiar voice, sounding a lot thicker then normal, answered.

"Woody. It's Jordan. I think someone broke into my apartment." She said, slowly opening the door the door and stepping inside, being careful not to touch anything.

"What!" He was suddenly more awake. "Are you okay?" Jordan almost smiled at the concern in his voice, but she knew it was just his nature as a cop to be concerned, not the result of anything he had once felt for her.

"I'm fine, I just got home from the morgue. My door was open, but the place dosen't look disturbed from what I can see." She explained, entering her home with caution. There wasn't anything out of place, and nothing looked stolen, so she began to wonder if maybe she had just forgotten to close up that morning.

"I'll be right there. Don't go inside, ok?" Jordan grinned to herself as she moved around the apartment. "Wouldn't dream of it." Woody sighed on the other end of the line. "You're already inside, aren't you? Just don't- try not to touch anything before I get there."

"Will do." She replied, pausing as she saw something that wasn't on her coffee table that morning. A picture of her and Woody, taken just a few months before he was shot. They were slow dancing, looking as happy as they ever had.

"What th-" The call was disconnected as her phone was ripped out of her hand and thrown into the wall hard enough to shatter it. Gasping, she whirled around, but her assailant was wearing a black ski mask so she could't see his face.

"Um, hi. And you are?" She asked, swallowing her fear and hiding behind her smart ass mask. Jordan made a break for the open door, but the man lunged and caught her ankle in a vise grip. She hit the wood floor hard enough to make her see stars for a second.

"Slut. You're no different then the rest of them, sleeping with any man who comes along. The papers say that I'm a killer, but I'm just doing God's work, sending the sinners of this world into the bowels of hell!" The man hissed, anger evident in his voice as he sat on her back, tying her hands together.

"Righteous women sleep only with their husbands. Is that man your husband?" Jordan struggled, trying to shake him off.

"Newsflash, asshole, I've never slept with Woody! And speaking of the good detective, he should be getting here any minute, with a bunch of cops." The man, apparently the serial killer, just laughed.

"Doctor, by the time Detective Hoyt gets here, you'll be on your way to attone for your sins in the afterlife. I hope you haven't left anything unsaid, because you won't get a chance now." He leaned closer to whisper in her ear.

"Or maybe I won't cleanse you outright. Maybe I'll keep you alive to suffer as He did to pay for your sins!"

Jordan struggled with renewed vigor, but her captor just laughed and gagged her. "That won't help, so don't even-" The sound of the door down the hall opening cut him off.

"Jordan?" Woody called. "Woody!" she screamed as well as she could gagged. "I'll be back for you later, slut." The killer whispered, running for the fire escape.

"Jordan? Jordan!" Woody cried, running to her side and pulling the cloth out out of her mouth. She looked over at him, thankful he was there.

"He went down the fire escape! Go!" He hesitated. "I'm fine, just go!" He nodded, drawing his weapon and peeking down the fire escape. She heard him swear softly as tires squealed.

"He's gone." Woody said, kneeling down and untying her. She sat up and rubbed at her wrists where the rough rope had abraded her delicate skin. "He was in here when I came in. He broke my phone!" She said indignantly, then realized something. Woody lived almost ten blocks away, yet he was there within five minutes. Either he drove like a maniac to get there, which would mean he still cared, whether she lived or died, at least. Or...

"How did you get here so fast?" Jordan asked, hoping foolishly that it was option A. He looked away and stood up. "There was hardly any traffic on the roads. What's that?" He asked, spotting the picture of them on her table and picking it up. He studied the picture with an expression like he was trying to remember when it was taken.

" Almost a year ago, now. Time flies, huh?" Jordan said, standing up and shoving down the bitter taste his words left in her mouth. " I didn't think anyone captured the moment, though. I wonder who took it?" She asked, trying not to think about how good his cologne smelled, or how hot he looked with his hair stuck up in all directions.

"Probably the killer. If he's coming after you, he's probably been watching you and me for months. Brings happy thoughts to mind, hmm? Well, I'll call in a team to check out the place. You had better call a friend and stay with them until we catch this guy." Woody opened his phone and began dialing.

"We were friends."Jordan muttered under her breath, fighting back the tears that welled up in her eyes. "Woody, what if this doesn't blow over? He said he'd be back for me. I can't stay with anyone from the morgue- and Garrett is out of the country- where do I go?"

"I'll ask if there's anyone- Yeah, this is Hoyt. I need a clean up crew at Jordan Cavanaugh's apartment. The killer was here." He paused. "Yeah, she's fine, but she needs somewhere safe to stay until this all blows over." He paused again, running a hand down his face. "Chief, I'm not a babysitter. She can't- Yes, sir. i understand. Hoyt out." He growled something about worst case scenarios under his breath and looked down at her.

"You'll be staying with me. We should get out of here before we wreck any viable prints." He said, and the 'babysitter' comment suddenly had new meaning. Anger, hot and fierce, rose in Jordan. He thought keeping her safe was babysitting?

"Never mind, detective. I have friends in Connecticut, I'll go stay with them. Give me five minutes to pack a bag and I'll be out of your hair. I wouldn't want to cut in on your busy schedule with something as worthless as my life." She turned and stormed into her bedroom, yanking open her closet door and pulling out a large suitcase.

She ripped clothes off of hangers, and threw them haphazardly into the suitcase, fuming. "Stubborn, stupid, uncaring, farm hick!" She muttered, accidentally tearing a button off of her favorite blouse. The tears came again, and one escaped before she could stop it. A hand grabbed her arm firmly.

"Jordan, I'm sorry. I didn't-" She stood up, glaring right at him. " Let me go, detective." Her voice was deadly calm. He shook his head. "I can't do that. I'm under orders from-" She tried to pull away, but he had her in a strong grip.

" Let go of me, Hoyt, or I'll-" He snickered, sizing her up. "You'll do what?" Without warning, she let loose with a hard right hook, connecting squarely with his stubbled jaw.

He fell back, rubbing his jaw. "I'll do that." She turned back to her suitcase. Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wre aroud her waist, lifting her up and throwing her over his shoulder like she weighed no more than a child. "You're coming with me if I have to chain you in my- bathroom." He warned, carrying her out of the apartment and down the hall.

Woody dumped her unceremoniously in the front seat of his car and got behind the wheel. "You know, that hurt." He said, looking at her in the mirror.

"Join the club." Jordan muttered, looking out the window and keeping her mouth securely shut.

A/N: Thanks to my reviewers for their praise!