Disclaimer: I, for all intent purposes, am in no way, nor would I like to be (despite what other disclaimers may have implied) associated with Crossing Jordan.

Author's Note: Wow, okay, so this has been kicking around my computer (USB drive if you want to get technical) for literally ages. Like, since the summer. That long. It was in response to a challenge posted at the coffeeroom board (I'll post the rules/guidelines at the end of this chapter) and I believe the deadline was something like Labor Day if that gives you any indication on how old this thing is. But as I was posting a chapter to another story today, I thought, what the heck? It's just sitting around collecting imaginary dust anyway.

So I give you a new story that I don't really intend to finish, but may, if so moved to do so. It's just a kind of fun quirky fic (with slight angst, because you've got to have the angst) that hasn't really piqued my interest as of late, but thought y'all might enjoy!

Oh and cyber cookies to whoever can guess the two Stand By Me references in the two chapters. One is quite obvious, one a little more subtle.

Up In Arms

Woody's Apartment, 1830 2A Murray Avenue.

2:13 am.

The rain splashed lightly off the windowsill outside the bedroom. She could hear the slow drops through the drawn curtain and over his steady, labored breathing. Jordan could listen to the rain for hours as long as he lay beside her. He didn't know that of course, and she fully intended to keep it that way. If feelings somehow got involved in whatever it was they were playing at, it could get pretty messy. And right now Jordan was quite content with the way things were. At least she kept telling herself that.

She sighed heavily, and pushed her body closer to his, his muscles stiffing at her touch, even in his sleep. Jordan let her hand wander across his chest and up to his face where her fingers slid along his cheekbone and up to his nose. As her fingertips danced down the edge of his chin, his arm shot up and grabbed her roving hand with his own. Woody's eyelids fluttered open, his soft blue eyes trying to focus on Jordan's pretty face. She looked like a pixie, an impish grin tugging at her lips and a mischievous glint cascading from her eyes. He smiled in return and pulled her head down, their mouths meeting in a tender kiss. A little too tender.

"Hey," she whispered, pulling back, stopping it from ever even starting.

"Hey yourself," he said.

Woody adjusted the pillow beneath his head and propped his arm underneath. At this moment he didn't think he'd seen Jordan more beautiful. Her long, dark hair was rumpled from their earlier encounter, her cheeks were flushed an adorable pink and her lips were smudged with lipstick that had been carefully applied just a few hours before. Practically begging to be kissed…which reminded him. Woody once again placed his lips upon Jordan's, a more probing and passionate kiss this time. He had read the message loud and clear when she had stopped the other one.

Woody would try play by her rules as long as it meant having her. Knowing Jordan, as he did, she probably didn't even fathom that he had so much as a clue to the invisible barriers that she had set up. But right now, with her here, none of that mattered. His finger hooked the strap of her tank top and slipped it down her shoulder when a loud, shrill ring erupted through the apartment.

"Is that mine or yours?" he asked with a moan.

"Yours."

Woody rolled over with a dejected look stamped on his handsome features and reached for his cell phone on nightstand.

"This is Hoyt," he greeted in a gruff tone. "Congress Street? Yeah, sure. I can be there in ten."

He flipped the phone shut and flung it onto the bed. Leaning over he placed a light kiss on Jordan's throat, before climbing out of the bed and pulling on his pants.

"Possible homicide on the Congress Street Bridge," Woody explained as he continued to dress.

"Suppose I should get a move on too then," Jordan replied, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and picking her woolen sweater off the floor.

"Are you on call tonight?" he asked. "Because, I have to say that I wouldn't mind coming back home to this."

Jordan turned her head and smiled at him. He was such a Boy Scout and she could almost love him for it.

"Well, Hoyt, sorry to disappoint, but I am on call," she began. "And even if I weren't Woody, I think it'd be about time for me to leave anyway."

Woody nodded slowly and gave a small sigh. He sat down beside her on the bed and let his hand drop to her bare thigh.

"Sometimes I just think it would be nice to have you around more. I mean, sure, we have this whole secret rendezvous thing going on. And I know through work we see each other a lot, but the idea of you already here is kind of appealing."

"Woody—" Jordan placed her hand over his and prepared to give him a speech that she had rehearsed in her head, many times should it ever come up. But he interrupted her before she could even get past his name, which was thankful as her mouth had gone dry.

"Of course it helps that right now you're half naked. Actually, I might prefer completely naked," Woody laughed lightly. "On second thought, I know I do."

He stood and gave her one last reckless kiss, then grabbed his coat.

"So much for that Boy Scout theory," she murmured.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing," Jordan dismissed with a shake of her head. "Look, I have my car, so I'll just meet you there, okay?"

"Sure. You know where the keys are. Just lock up when you leave," he told her, closing the door behind him.

Jordan's cell phone rang just moments after he left, the annoying little ditty that Sidney had programmed into it, buzzing loudly.

"Cavanaugh," she answered. "Over the Ford Point Channel, the bridge…alright. Sure, I'll be there in a few minutes."

Congress Street Bridge.

2:34 am.

Dangling from the edge of the bridge, wet from the rain, the body swung freely about. He was quickly hoisted up above the railing, where gloved hands inspected every inch of both him and the crime scene.

"Victim is one Aaron Reilly, thirty-two years of age," Woody read aloud from the brown, leather wallet a uniformed officer handed him.

"Wonder just who he pissed off?" Jordan questioned.

"Already ruling it a homicide?" he asked. "Maybe the guy was just really depressed. It's not uncommon you know."

"Not every depressed person hangs themselves from a bridge. If they did, the world wouldn't have a population problem," Bug stated. He then let out a noisy sneeze and wrapped his scarf closer around his neck. "Damn Boston weather."

"Says the man who lived in Liverpool," Jordan commented with a raised eyebrow. "Well, let's get Mr. Reilly here to the morgue and find out the truth. Shall we?"

"Anything to get out of this rain," Bug said as he shuddered from the harsh wind that suddenly blew. "I've been had this thing for over a week now. Ah, what I'd give to be back in bed."

"Can't argue with you there, man," Woody agreed. He smiled broadly and lightly smacked Bug with his notepad.

"Why, have someone waiting for you there Detective?" Bug inquired, wiping his increasingly red nose with a tissue.

"Yeah, Woody, somebody keeping that bed toasty for you?" Jordan asked, with a lopsided grin.

"Why Jordan? Jealous?" he sneered slightly, but then winked slyly at her.

"Who me? Don't flatter yourself Woody," she replied.

"Well, actually there is somebody, but I'm thinking of sending her packing. Girl is annoying as hell," he said.

"Oh, really?" Jordan questioned.

Banter was always safe ground between the two. If they bantered enough, people naturally assumed that there was sexual tension involved. Tension that had yet to be relieved. So, they kept it up for appearances sake and assumed no one was the wiser.

"Come on guys," Bug waved his hand in a vague direction. "Let's get going. Sooner we leave, sooner we get home."

"The man is a pillar of wisdom, I tell you," Woody remarked walking towards his vehicle.

"Oh, yeah, it just spews out of him," Jordan nodded and opened the door to her own car.

"I have a common cold, I'm not deaf!" Bug yelled from the other side of the bridge, while loading the body into the back of the morgue's van. "And that begs the question as to why I am the one doing the hard labor."

Jordan smiled to herself and started her El Camino. Or she would have started it, if the engine would have turned over. Instead it idled and then choked. She pumped the gas and tried again. But it only made a low rumble, sputtered and stopped.

"Shit," she cursed beneath her breath.

"Having some trouble there Jordan?" Woody questioned with a grin, pulling his car up next to hers.

"No, I'm fine. It just needs a little lovin' that's all," she told him and tried to start it once more.

"Don't we all?" he asked.

"It's probably just the weather," Jordan decided, stepping out of the El Camino. She roughly shut the door behind her, slamming it just right, so it would actually close.

"I'll drive you," Woody offered.

"No, it's okay. I'll catch a ride back with Bug, not like it's going to go anywhere," Jordan shrugged and gestured to the area marked off with yards of police caution tape.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll see you there," she said and began to race to the van.

Boston City Morgue, Crypt.

2:58 am.

"Get this guy into Autopsy One, I want to get started as soon as possible," Jordan stated, pushing the gurney, with Aaron Reilly under the sheet, towards Bug.

"A little overenthusiastic are we?" he asked, blowing his nose into the wad of tissues that Jordan was wondering if now were a permanent part of his hand.

"Hey, you said so yourself. Sooner we get this done, sooner we all go home," she reminded.

"Shouldn't we wait for Woody?"

"Wait no longer," Woody announced. He walked towards the pair, his head down and flipping through his notes.

"I wasn't going to hold my breath," Jordan shrugged with a half grin.

"I wouldn't expect you to," he remarked in the same tone.

"Can we stop with the not so witty repartee and get this going? It was you mere moments ago who wanted to get this done and over with," Bug said impatiently.

"Yeah, just go ahead and I'll catch up in a second. I'm going to head over to the break room, I just don't function until I get my coffee," Jordan told him, already walking away and throwing a wayward glance in Woody's direction. "My brain just thrives on caffeine."

"You know Jordan, that's a good idea," Woody eagerly nodded and flipped his notepad shut, his heels nipping at hers.

"And once again, it's me stuck with all the work," Bug muttered, leaning into the gurney. He began to quickly wheel it to Autopsy One, mumbling and cursing the entire way.

"Doing a great job Bug, really!" Jordan called over her shoulder.

"Thank me later!" he shouted back.

Boston City Morgue, Lily's Office.

3:07 am.

Lily sat quietly at her desk one hand scribbling reports, the other winding a long strand of red hair around her finger. She scratched out the last word she wrote and placed the pen down on her desk before closing her eyes.

"Lily?" a voice questioned from the hall. Nigel, seeing her still in her office at such a late hour, stopped and then stepped inside. "Burning the midnight oil love?"

"Hi Nigel," she smiled softly. "I have a bunch of forms I have to fill out and I figured I'd just get a head start."

"Some work ethic," Nigel commented.

"I just couldn't bring myself to go home today," Lily admitted, with a frown.

"Ah," he nodded and sat his lanky frame atop her desk.

"Question should be, why are you here? I thought you leave for your vacation tomorrow," she crinkled her brow.

"I do, just left some things here that I might need for the trip," he explained and gestured to the box of things that sat in front of her door.

"A safari in Africa. God that sounds exciting!" she exclaimed and leapt to her feet to inspect the box. Then she added at the amused look of Nigel, "I need some excitement and therefore am living vicariously through you."

Lily knelt down and began to pull various items out of the box.

"Are you sure you're going on vacation? A lot of this look likes work to me…" she told him with a curious expression, holding up a rather heavy looking microscope.

"Well, you know what they say, 'All play and no work…'" Nigel paused and shook his head. "Or is it, 'All work and no play'?"

"Is this for play?" Lily asked, in her hands something that definitely wasn't work related.

"That? That…" Nigel stuttered, making a grab for the article of clothing.

"That is a Victoria's Secret Angel Bra," she said with a tilt of her head. "I must say, I never thought that—"

"Well, it's not mine!" he proclaimed.

"Wasn't even entertaining the idea that it might be," Lily bit her lip, trying to suppress the giggle that was forming at the back of her throat. "But since it isn't yours, may I ask how it got in the box? Or exactly what use it would serve on an African safari?"

"None I suppose," Nigel said. "In fact, it happens to belong to…shall we say a lady friend of mine."

"Answer my first question," she challenged, the bra still dangling from her finger at the strap.

"It was left here, by said friend," he told her.

"Oh really? And just what were you and said friend doing that required removal of intimate apparel?"

"I think I might leave that to your imagination pet," Nigel replied with a smile grabbing at the item.

"Who would have thought?" Lily grinned and let out the laugh she had been holding back.

"Well, I should get home. With my flight in the morning and all," he leaned over and kissed Lily lightly on her cheek. "Promise that you'll miss me."

"You know I will," she told him and wrapped him in a hug.

Nigel picked up the box, tossing the Victoria's Secret Angel Bra on top and began to walk out of Lily's office.

"Have fun!" she said with a wave.

Here are the challenge rules/guidelines. I haven't met them all, but well, like I said, it's not finished. And I'm so sorry, but for the life of me, I can't remember who posted the challenge initially, but credit goes to them :)

1. It has to be at least 1500 words long.
2. It must have Jordan paired with someone. Doesn't have to be Woody...can be whomever your dream about.
3. Must involve her El Camino breaking down and unable to get parts to fix it.
4. Has to have a Victoria's Secret Angel Bra
5. Some character has to use Jessica Simpson's Body Desserts.
6. Plot must involve a homicide by hanging.
7. There's a loose cat running around
8. Someone must have a cold.
9. Nigel has to be getting ready to go on vacation to a safari in Africa.
10. There's got to be one song that keeps running through everyone's head. And it can't be Blue Moon or Spirit in the Sky.