Okay, Italy won the World Cup. My world just got a hundred times better. I can continue with my story now!

Thanks for all the reviews; they are ALWAYS very much appreciated, especially on stories that go against the status quo.

Disclaimer: I think I've made myself clear on who truly owns Crossing Jordan these days

VIVA L'ITALIA!

I Can't Do That With You

Jordan couldn't think. Her mind raced for a coherent thought, but none would come. The months of being alone had made her starved for a connection with another human being, and it was too easy to stand there and let Nigel do as he wished with her mouth. In all her time on the run, she never would have thought that he would be the one to come after her. If she had expected anyone, it was Woody. But it made sense in a way. She shared something with Nigel that she did not share with anyone else, even the blue eyed detective. She just never considered that Nigel would want to bring their relationship to another level.

And that other level was starting to become more apparent.

Her body and mind jolted, one from neglected nerves and one from shock, when Nigel's hand slipped under her shirt and skated across her light cotton bra. She started. He must have felt it, because he broke away from her and pulled back, looking at her with concern and a little regret.

"I…sorry," he muttered, gently placing her away from him.

"No, it's okay," Jordan said, shaking her head. She ran her hands up the sides of her face and into her hair. Why couldn't she get a grip on what she was feeling? Or say something appropriate to wipe the look of hurt off of his face?

"Uh…look, Jordan," Nigel started, growing uncomfortable in the silence. "I never expected anything. I just, um…I couldn't keep going on as though I didn't feel that way for you in the slightest. Especially with everything that's been happening. It was driving me crazy. But if you don't -"

"Nige," Jordan cut him off, then stopped, realizing she didn't know what to say. She thought for a moment, watching anxiety creep onto his face. "I don't really know what to think," she told him honestly. "I can't say I'm entirely surprised. Or…entirely against it," she added with a small smile.

His eyes brightened at the remark. His face told her how much he had been wanting this. How much it must have killed him to have her flee Boston without a word. She had always suspected he might have harbored some romantic feelings for her, and she wouldn't deny that there had been times in the past when she had felt the spark of flirtation between them. But in her mind, it always translated into a platonic flirtation, the teasing of siblings in most cases. In most cases, her mind echoed.

"Did you come here because of this?" she asked.

"I came here to make sure you were all right," he told her, and she believed him. She shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm as all right as a fugitive can be," she said with a lopsided smile.

"Jordan, you're avoiding," Nigel chastised.

"Now when have I ever avoided anything?"

Nigel fixed her with an Oh please look. She looked away nervously.

"I guess I'm just not used to talking things out," she confided, looking down at her now clasped hands. "I've gotten stuck in the 'Let's see how things go' rut."

"If I can be blunt," he said in a way that told her he wasn't asking for permission. "You were put in that rut by other people. And you don't deserve to be there."

Jordan looked up at him. It had been a very long time since anyone had voluntarily taken the burden of blame off her shoulders. Nigel was always supportive of her and honest when he needed to be, and she loved him for it.

"I've screwed up a lot of relationships by jumping blind into situations without thinking of the consequences," she told him. "And I've hurt people because of it. I can't do that with you."

A shadow fell over his face, and he dropped his eyes away from hers.

"I understand," he said quietly.

Jordan stepped forward and placed a hand on the side of his face, lifting his gaze to meet hers again.

"You told me I mean too much to you to let this chance slip away," she began. "And you mean too much to me for me to do what I've done with every other fucked up, textbook worthy relationship I've had. I can not let myself hurt you of all people. So…if you want this…we need to slow down and think."

"What are you saying?" Nigel asked, unsure of how to interpret her statement.

Jordan let her hand drop to his shoulder and smiled up at him.

"I'm saying, let's start by getting dinner, and we'll take it from there," she said.

Despite her attempts to keep from doing regular business anywhere in DC, Jordan had found a Chinese restaurant a few blocks away from her apartment that she had gone to on more than one occasion. They had a honey-walnut shrimp dish that she found too satisfying to stay away from, and she reasoned that she deserved something satisfying in a life on the run. So she took Nigel there, and they did their best to share a normal dinner under the circumstances, and practically succeeded, too.

Jordan had forgotten how much she enjoyed Nigel's company. She had ached for everyone at the morgue from the moment she arrived in DC, but the strain of hiding out had forced those feelings to the back of her mind over the months. Not being able to miss them had hurt even more than the actual missing. Now, in Nigel's presence, she felt flooded with everything she had suppressed.

Nigel, ever the gentleman, paid for dinner and placed a slightly tentative hand around Jordan's waist as they walked down the street. She tried to put him at ease by relaxing into his side. At the moment, she was content to accept the closeness he was offering.

"I'm glad you're here," she said suddenly, breaking the silence between them.

"I can imagine it must get lonely."

"Running away isn't all it used to be," she said, only half joking.

"Sweet Mary, I think she's finally seen the light!" Nigel exclaimed in mock surprise.

"Yeah, sure," Jordan laughed at him. Her smile dropped away and she swallowed. "I, um, I didn't want to," she added, her voice betraying the sadness she was trying to hide. "If there was another way…but I couldn't – damn it, I sure know how to ruin a good evening, don't I?"

She wiped away tears that were starting to appear in her eyes. Nigel stopped walking and turned towards her, concern etched into his face. He placed his hands on her arms and gently ran them up and down in comfort.

"Jordan," he said softly. "Did you ever come to terms with what happened? Did you ever grieve?"

At his words, Jordan's face lost its mask completely and she closed her eyes against the tears that were coming more frequently. She shook her head.

"I tried," she said. "God, I tried. But it's hard to grieve someone when you think you might've killed them."

"You didn't," Nigel whispered firmly, glancing around. No one was around to hear them, but he was still wary. It looked as though time had made Jordan a little careless, and that wasn't good. "Jordan, you couldn't have, I know you."

"But if I was drugged or angry enough, who's to say it's not possible!" she argued.

"We can't discuss this here," Nigel told her, placing an arm around her shoulder and guiding her down the street as he glanced around again. This time, he saw a man standing in the shadows a block away. Alarms went off in Nigel's mind. How long had the man been standing there? Had he heard anything?

Thinking he was just being paranoid, Nigel turned and continued with Jordan down the street, although he quickened their pace. After another two blocks, he risked a glance behind them. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the man sliding along behind them in the shadows of the buildings. He snapped his head back around to stare straight ahead.

"Jordan, have you noticed anyone following you recently?" he whispered in genuine concern.

"No," she answered, her eyes going wide as she looked up at him. "Why?"

"Because I don't think I'm the only one who found you," he said ten times more calmly than he felt.

Jordan felt her adrenaline soar at Nigel's words. As discreetly as she could, she reached for the zipper of her purse and pulled it, slipping her hand inside and closing her fingers around her gun. With Nigel's arm tightly around her shoulder, her movements were well hidden. Nigel glanced down and saw her partially remove the weapon from her bag.

"Jesus, Jordan," he muttered, shocked.

"Girl's best friend," she replied.

Taking a deep breath, she turned her head ever so slightly and caught sight of the man lurking behind them. He had just stepped off the curb to cross the street onto the block they were currently on. In the few seconds it took to glance back, she saw the subtle movement of his hand reaching into his coat. Time seemed to stand still. Jordan sucked in a breath and held it, coming to a halt and pulling her gun all the way from the purse. Her sudden halt caused Nigel to stop beside her. He looked quickly from her drawn weapon to the man pulling his own gun from under his coat. His instinct took over.

"Get down!" he shouted at Jordan, grabbing her and pulling her down to the ground beneath him as a shot rang out in the quiet of the night. The bullet crashed through a window of the business next to them and glass shattered everywhere, raining down on top of Nigel. He buried his face in Jordan's hair, doing everything he could to protect her.

A second shot sounded, followed by the screech of tires. Nigel looked up to see a black car peel out from around the corner and speed away, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. Through the dust, Nigel could see the body of the man lying in the street. It was over barely ten seconds after it had started. Shaken, he carefully stood up and heard glass hit the pavement as it fell off of him. Jordan pushed herself up from the ground and grabbed the hand that he offered to stand up. He could feel her trembling. He took one more look in the direction the car had driven, and the body lying in the street.

"C'mon," he said, putting a hand at the small of her back. "Let's get out of here before the cops show up."