Chapter 13: "Where Does That Leave Us?"

"Then let me ask you this then. What would hurt more: The mistakes of the past or the idea of a future without him in it?"

Lily's question haunted her for the rest of the day. Jordan spent that time kicking aimlessly around downtown. She stopped to watch tourists and locals alike, taking in the soggy smells and oppressive humidity that was the city in the height of summer.

Right after Jordan left Lily's office she ran face-to face into Nigel. He hugged her tightly and pointblank asked her when she was coming back to work. He reminded her that Boston was her home. Could she leave it again? Starting over meant leaving everything she cared about behind. She walked out the morgue with a few awkward reminders that she was fodder for the office gossip for weeks. There would always be some people who worked there that would disapprove of her, but Nigel only proved the point that the ones that truly counted were all on her side. He assured it would die down the second the gossip mill found something else to grind. Garret would make sure of it.

Jordan began to make a mental list of pros and cons on where the next chapter of her life would play out.

"...What would hurt more..."

There were still one tall, blue-eyed negative that voided the long list of positives out.

She found herself down by the river pier. The same pier she and Woody once spent many early morning hours running along. There weren't any runners in the late afternoon, only people milling around between the long days in their air-conditioned offices spaces and an evening of trendy restaurants and even trendier drinks. She was shocked to see Woody leaning against one of the rails looking out across the dirty water.

He was checking his watch. Maybe he was waiting for someone. Just because she was staying at his apartment, he didn't need to pass his social schedule with her. Jordan turned her eyes up and down the boardwalk half expecting to see Lu's blonde head walking toward him. Striding, marching ...aiming. Lu never just walked. She walked with a single-minded purpose. She always had places to go, people to see.

Felons to arrest.

Call it a new old habit, but even though the charges against her had been dropped Jordan still didn't feel up to running into her in public. She was about to turn and slink way quietly, an unobserved, when she heard her name being called out.

The sun was hanging like a fireball in the western sky as Woody finished testifying in a case he'd closed half a year ago. He pushed open the glass doors of the Suffolk County Court House and took a deep breath. The heat and humidity scorched his lungs, but it was better than the stale air that circulated in the courthouse.

The defendant's lawyer had gone after him like Woody had expected. Attacking the time line; questioning the forensics evidence; trying to make it appear like Woody hadn't done his job. After five years of practice sitting on the opposite side of the witness bench of lawyer like him, Woody was more than ready for everything the defender had thrown after him. In the end, the lawyer couldn't discredit the autopsy evidence Bug had put together.

Woody moved across the parking lot and unlocked his Chevy. The suspect, a father of five, was up on capital murder charges. He was probably looking at life. The mothers of his children will never see a penny of support from him. His children would grow up knowing their father was a murderer.

Woody supposed he should feel bad. He supposed it was the compassionate, human way to feel. But he was there for the autopsy of the victim. He work long hours on the investigation. The victim had kids of her own. She worked two jobs to support them...and feed her habit...because the father's, like her killer's, idea of being there was to come around only when he needed to scratch an itch or a place to lay low.

So what, if one of her jobs was turning tricks? She was still a victim and Woody was fresh out of compassion for anybody but the victim. Even though when he was investigating the case, he had to muster up that belief.

Six months ago a junkie hooker was just another criminal. She didn't deserve to be murdered. Nobody deserves that. But he felt like if she made the choice to do what she did for a living, she needed to take responsibly to know her risks. His resolve changed when he watched the ADA flash the all-to-familiar pictures of her body on the power-point screen. Only this time he didn't see her...he saw Jordan.

He checked in at the precinct to sign out for the day and stopped to ask for an update on JD's case. The cop in Woody knew Santos wasn't stupid. He wouldn't so much as spit on the sidewalk until the case had gone officially cold and his tail was gone. An update was an exercise in futility, but he still had to go through the motions.

One of those motions was to talk to Lu. His personal life may have hit the toilet, but his professional one hummed along with barely a hiccup. He and Lu had no other choice but to deal with each other. It was their job. For Woody, cold sweat pooled in the small of his back every time he had to be in the same room with her, where as Lu was as always cool as a cucumber.

Not too cold... professional, indifferent, just that ambiguous point between happy camaraderie and open hostility. She gave him the same report she gave the lieutenant...word-for-official-word.

Woody asked her for the umpteenth time if she wanted to talk about what happened. She reiterated that she had said all she had to say. That she didn't have the same honesty issues that he had. She never kept anything from him. Communication was his problem not hers.

He wanted her to scream at him. Kick, throw a tantrum, something...anything. Tell him he was a jerk, tell him she hated him, just like Jordan did...but Lu remained almost apathetic when it came to what they shared. Hate would have been so much easier to stomach than responsibility.

Not that he deserved easier. Maybe that was the point. Lu had a piece of paper that said she had a doctorate in messing with someone's head.

Some how he doubted it. Lu had never been anything but an open book. His part in their relationship could be compared to an episode of Springer and hers...Oprah.

Lu was right. Communication has always been his problem. He was a natural when it came to interrogating a suspect. He could sit in a witness chair, and under the pressure of cross examination, describe a murder scene down to the finest detail...all without breaking a sweat. But when it came to his own life, he could never find the words. It was what went wrong with every romantic relationship he'd ever had. Annie, Lu...Jordan.

Woody found himself down by the river. To go home he would have to face his communication issues.

It was easy to lose one's worries watching the brackish current flow toward the bay. Only eventually gave them all back.

Even though he didn't want to, Woody would find himself thinking about Jordan. It goes to figure. They spent many mornings jogging along the wharf and even a few evenings barhopping through the brick store fronts that lined the way. In the back of his mind, this was their place.

It became painfully obvious while he was drying the dishes Jordan had washed last night that she was ready to think about her future. Talking to Lily was the first step. The next would be to make some choices on where she went from there. Selfishly, he didn't know if he was ready.

The sun dipped behind a building casting a long shadow along the banks of the river. It was getting late. He wasn't hungry but he knew one of Jordan's favorite places was less than a block away. Woody checked his watch and debated whether to call her and see if she felt up to coming down or if he should just bring home some take-out.

As if he could conger her up out of thin air, Woody looked up in time to see her turn around and slip into the shadows. He was quick to call out her name.

Jordan mouthed a curse for not making a clean get away. There was no way she could be congenial to Woody and his...whatever.

"The mistakes of the past..."

He called again, closer this time. She painted what she hoped was a charming smile on her face and turned around. "Hi."

"I was just about to call you," Woody said reaching her side.

"You don't need to check up on me Wood. I can fend for myself," she nodded her head, like she was confirming it to herself.

"What are you talking about?"

"Dinner."

"Dinner was why I was calling," he said with a grin. "Your here so...why are you here?"

"I was just. I just kind of ended up here. I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything. I'll just..." she pointed out to the street in the direction she was parked.

"Interrupting?" It dawned on him that she thought he was there with someone. He looked up and down the boardwalk and rubbed the back of his neck, with a smile. "I was calling to see if you wanted to meet at that Italian place you like. After the day I had I could use some fried calamari and a friendly face across from me."

Not more than fifteen minutes ago he was avoiding her. Now he couldn't think of a better why to decompress from the day than sharing a meal with her.

"That bad?" she asked, referring to his scheduled court appearance.

"Nothing I couldn't handle..."

He held out his hand for her to take. She didn't move. Jordan smiled uncertainly and looked at him for several heartbeats.

"I think we should talk first."

"Sure," he said drawing a careful breath. I think we should talk first. Six of the most terrifying words in the English language...at least where Woody was concerned.

"It's over; at least for now. It's time for me to make some choices...about where I go from here."

There it was out in the open. One of the subjects he was hiding from. Woody looked at his feet before he said anything.

"I can tell you that Canada gets colder sooner and stays that way longer than Boston. The Baseball sucks...and that whole thing about the Public Health System is highly overrated..."

Jordan's lips twitched at his ardent case.

"I don't think you need to worry about the Canadian Government asking you to be a good will ambassador." She took a deep breath before she continued blithely. "Besides, Canada is only one option."

The way she said it made Woody think that Boston wasn't high on that list of options.

He leaned forward, his voice falling, almost pleading. "Why go anywhere?"

"I need a fresh start."

"But I thought...you talked to Lily didn't you?

"Yes," she said with a sad grin. "No matter what she said I still disappointed her."

"Leaving isn't going to change what happened Jordan."

Her eyes clouded. "I know that."

He reached out, cupping his hand lightly over her shoulder. "You can't erase it no matter how far you run. It'll still be there no matter where you go. Boston is your home. This is the place where you are the strongest. Your friends are here..."

Jordan's own hand reached up to cover Woody's briefly. "I know. Nigel told me the same thing," her voice dropped, confiding.

Nigel had ended up teasing her about being put out that he didn't design her stripper's wardrobe. Instead of taking it as an offense, Jordan only saw the love and support that poured out of his eyes. Lily was right. They didn't think any less of her.

"He told me that I was missed and that I'm needed."

"If you left you'd leave a big hole in the M.E.'s office. Stay Jordan." His thumb brushed her face.

She grinned at the touch but still took a tiny step away. Woody dropped his hands.

"My job at the morgue is not the issue. My bad choices make it impossible to stay."

He studied her thoughtfully for a second. "We're not just talking about ...Judge Gordon and The Chambers are we?"

"You and I will always have this thing between us," she said pointing at the space between them. "I'm worried it's too much to overcome."

"I was an ass. A self-centered, hotheaded jerk..."

In DC, he had reacted on sheer emotion. Time had given him a chance to look back and see that he should have handled everything differently. "I wish I could take that night away...but I can't. For that I'll always be sorry."

"The sex was one thing Woody, but I'm talking about your incapability to understand why I needed to finish what JD started."

It was his turn to give her an uncomfortable smile. He shoved his hands in his pant pockets and looked out over the water before he spoke.

"I admit I'll never see what made Pollack worth it. But I've had a chance to look back and put myself in your shoes. I think love is a choice you make. Too few people realize that you can choose to love and to hate...or to be indifferent to the feeling of others. It guides our actions. It makes everything we do in the name of love worth the sacrifice. I know that if came to those I really cared about...I'd move heaven and earth to get them justice. I'd be a hypocrite to think you wouldn't do the same."

Woody had egoistically once thought she was unable to love. He now saw the selfless sacrifices she made because of it. She put it all out there. Win or lose she gave it her all.

Woody never gave it his all. After his shooting he told her that he didn't need her. He liked to think it was a noble act of his own...but if he really looked in the mirror it was because he didn't want to put himself out there because he didn't trust her with his heart. Pollack trusted in her ability to love. He put his heart out there for her to take...and because of that Woody would always be second best.

"I may not understand completely, but I have to admire your loyalty to him and what you did for love," he said gave her a tender, but solemn smile.

Jordan nodded, processing what he was trying to tell her. "Where does that leave us?" she asked softly.

"I guess it leaves us right where we started."

"And where is that?"

"There is no way I can compete with a dead man...or any other guy that'll come along for that matter. Not now. I can only hope that we can find a way to get back to being friends."

It wasn't what she wanted to hear.

JD and the other men in her life may have been "dangerous" on the outside, but Woody, and all his real faults, was far more dangerous to her then the rest combined.

With the others there was always at least one thing that kept her feelings in perspective. She never really settled on what Woody's "one thing" was. By the time she thought she felt the need to think about it was too late. He had already somehow wormed his way under her skin. He brought out the better in her and the worst. It also did the same with him.

Jordan couldn't help but wonder if the combination these things were why their timing was always just a tick off.

The smile she flashed didn't do a very good job of hiding her disappointment. "I see."

Woody wasn't fooled. He watched the play of emotions cross her face as she folded her arms around her middle. Once again he felt hung by his tongue. "Jordan. I'm really trying here."

"I understand. I do...really," she said notching her chin up a fraction. "It just goes to prove that it's time to make some changes..."

"Don't make up your mind because of me...or what I did," he said, his jaw twitching ever so slightly.

"We're back on that aren't we? I told you the sex was my fault. You need to stop blaming yourself."

"You're damn right I blame myself. I only hope that I someday I can make it up to you..."

Jordan put up her hand cutting him off. "So what you are trying tell me is that everything...all the things you've done for me...is because of guilt."

"No. Okay, yes...it's was part of it. A big part."

"Part of it?" she asked incredulously.

"My motives were selfish too. You were...broken by what you'd been through and by...me. I was being protective...even though I told myself I wouldn't do that anymore."

Jordan smiled. "I wasn't in any danger Woody. If they thought I was Walcott would have locked me up."

"It was less to do with protecting you from harm...or even yourself. It was more to give you a safe zone where you could concentrate on taking care of yourself."

"...oh."

"You needed some space Jordan. I wanted to make sure you didn't need to fight to find it."

"Thank you Woody."

Woody can't help himself, he had to touch her. He had to. He slid hand along her jaw, his thumb brushing over her earlobe.

"I couldn't let you go through this alone Jordan. I care too much about you..." He stopped short of telling her he loved her even though anyone walking by could see it as plain as day in his eyes.

Jordan saw it too. He spoke to her with those beautiful eyes. Concern, respect, affection, confusion. She doesn't know what to make of him and never did. His touch, his words, his very presence should make her anxious...or at least want reclaim her personal space. She needed to remember he just wanted to "be friends". He didn't want a future with her.

Instead she leaned in closer, anchoring herself with a soft hand on his chest. She stood on her toes and lifted her lips to his.