Title:One Good Friend
Author: AthenaIceGoddess
Spoilers: not very many big ones, just a few from this season, a few from seasons past barely mentioned
Angst/Romance/Drama
Summary: Woody gets out of the hospital after being shot, and he goes into a dangerous downspiral. Can he get help before it's too late? WJ of course.
Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em. I just like to play with them every once in a while. I also don't own the title of the fic or the chapters. They're all from songs
Chapter 2
She ain't worth missing
Just one drink. Just to take the edge off the pain and anger Woody felt as often as he breathed. Anger at the punk that shot him, anger at Jordan, emotional pain, physical pain... Woody wasn't sure where one feeling ended and another began.
Woody pulled up to the curb at the same bar he frequented, walking straight up to the door and entering like he belonged with the other sorry drunks there. He walked straight up to the bar, ordering his usual whiskey.
"We're seeing more and more of you every day." The middle-aged bartender said with a smile, whiping down the already immaculate bar top with a cloth that had once been white, but was now a uniform grey.
"Yeah." Woody grunted back, downing the whiskey in one gulp and signaling for another.
"So, where do you work? You don't look like the typical coporate asshole that stalks in here to drown their troubles in a glass."
"Somewhere I should be getting back to before I'm missed." Woody muttered, finishing off his second drink and getting up. "Thanks for the drinks." He threw some money at the bartender and went back out to his car.
When he got out there, there was a report of a homicide coming over his police radio, and he was in the area. He headed over to the scene of the crime, and parked his car behind the ME's van.
He got out of the car, hoping and praying that the answering ME wasnt... Jordan. No such luck. At the sight of the slender brunette bent over a sprawled female body, Woody's traitorious heart clenched. He'd worked with her a few times since he got back on the job, but the awkwardness was always there.
"Michelle Santos, female latino, aproximately 5'5, 125, cause of death- blunt force trauma to the back of the head. TOD approximately-" She stopped to look at her watch, jumping a little when she noticed Woody standing behind her.
"Jeez Woods, you scared me." She stared at him for a second, taking in his rumpled trench coat and his bloodshot eyes. Those piercing brown eyes didn't miss a beat.
"How you doing with everything?" She asked, friendly concern coloring her voice. Irritation surged through Woody at her concern. Who was she to be concerned about him?
"I'm fine. Great, actually. Got a hot date tonight." Ignoring the hurt look that flashed across her face before the professional mask was plastered back on, he stepped up to the body.
"What do we have?" Woody asked. "One female, cause of death is blunt force trauma to the head, time of death is approximately a half hour ago. She was thrown out that window. CSU is sweeping the room up there right now."
"So someone cracked her over the head and then chucked her out a window? Seems like a whole lot of trouble to go to. Why not just kill her and leave her up there?" Woody mused, looking up.
"That's your job, not mine." Jordan quipped, stepping closer to Woody to get a better look at the busted out window.
Wrinkling her nose, Jordan looked around, sniffing unobtrousively. "What's that smell? It smells like Jack Daniels." She looked at Woody suspiciously. "You haven't been-?"
Stepping away, Woody rolled his eyes. "No, I haven't. Get that report to me as soon as possible, I have five open homicides on my desk, and I'd like to get a few of them shut." Turning to go back to his car, he opened the door.
"I should have the report done by four thrity, so if you stopped by then, you can get it." Jodan told him, hurt from his curt behavior in her eyes.
Her chestnut curls blew in her face as she watched the man she used to- hell, still did- love get in his car and drive away without so much as a smile thrown in her direction. And now Jordan wondered what was going on with him that he smelled like whiskey.
Woody had never been a heavy drinker. Even when they went to the Pogue, he'd only had a few beers. She hoped he was alright.
"Are you ready to go, love?" Nigel asked, sticking his head out of the front window of the morgue van.
"You in a hurry, Nige?" Jordan called back, going over to the other side and jumping in after the body of Michelle Santos was loaded into the back.
"What's up with you and Woodrow?" Nige asked, putting the car into drive and heading to the morgue.
"I don't know."Jordan replied, watching traffic with her brow furrowed in worry. "I'm worried about him though." She didn't want to tell Nigel about the alcohol she smelled on the detective, she'd investigate that herself later.
"But Woody's a big boy, he can take care of himself. We've got a job to do." Jordan muttered, staring out the window. She'd pay him a visit later on. Whether he wanted her to or not.