(Five minutes before it dawned on them)
"That's what he said." She whispered still holding the phone.
"It doesn't make any sense Jordan. Why would you clean everything but the gun?"
She stopped talking, her face paling considerably. Woody touched her back.
"I'm-. I'm going to be sick." She said softly walking quickly down the hall. He closed his eyes for a second trying to collect himself, before following her. He held her hair and tried not to watch. He'd seen her throw up enough at the hospital, he didn't need a repeat performance.
"You okay?" He whispered after a few minutes, leaning his head on her shoulder.
"Yeah." She breathed, turning to his concerned gaze. "I'm okay."
(Fifteen minutes before it dawned on them)
Woody heard her phone ringing, he hated that phone. It made him smile when he thought about it. How he projected all his frustrations towards Jordan and the delays in there relationship onto her cell phone.
He reached over her stirring body and grabbed it before it could wake her.
"Yeah Dr. M?" It was Garret he'd seen his name on the screen.
"Woody. Please, tell me she's with you." He smiled, looking down at her sleeping form.
"She's with me."
"Thank God. Woody.." He heard Garret grunt, begin to tell him something and then stop and grunt again.
"Dr. Macy?"
"They found her gun. It was under the sink."
"But she keeps it in her.."
"I know."
"What are you telling me?"
"Her prints were on the gun Woody."
"It's her gun Garret." He said in confusion before panic struck him. "Please don't tell me this.."
"It matches the murder weapon. The Private ME is running ballistics right now." Woody ran his hand across Jordan's back as her eyes started to open.
"When will they know?" He asked as her tired eyes widened at his expression.
"Twenty minutes maybe, thirty. They're not as efficient as we are." He growled.
"There's no way Nigel can get his hands-?" Woody began cupping her frightened face in his free hand as she sat up next to him on the bed.
"No." Garret interrupted. "We tried."
"This doesn't make any sense Dr. M." He closed his eyes feeling Jordan's hands on the phone. He let it go, wanting Macy to tell her. He didn't want to say the words.
"Garret?" She asked in a raspy voice.
"Hey Jordan." She could almost see him running his hands across his face. "They found your gun. It matches. They're running ballistics."
"Prints?"
"Just yours and they're nearly perfect."
(The night before it dawned on them.)
He carried her up the stairs. Her quiet sobs breaking in and out of the silence as she kissed him. He nuzzled her closer to him as he turned towards the bedroom. He knew this house. He'd come here to clean it out after Max left, after Malden. She couldn't have done it and he knew it. So when she'd shown up in his office the next morning holding out the key to him like it was tainted, he'd pocketed the thing, whispering he'd take care of it.
He opened the door with his foot, laying her across the bed.
"I need you." She said softly, as he brushed his thumb over her tears. He laid down beside her pulling her against him as tightly as they'd been this morning, kissing her firmly as if to ground her to the moment. She ran her hand up his body, her fingers grasping at the back of his neck. "I love you."
He started to unbutton her blouse, moving his hand up to each button with out ever looking away from her face. She traced her fingers across his cheek, his jaw, and then his lips. Studying every line of his face. Every curve of his sad smile. He pulled his sweater and T-shirt over his head when she moved herself back to take her arms from their sleeves. Her hands returned to the buttons of his pants, her breath still unsteady with tears. He traced over her shoulders, working down her back and undoing the clasp of her bra and untangling her from it.
They moved silently and slowly, trying to push down the fear that this may be the last timefor a long time. He propped himself up on his elbow and slid her pants off of her waist and down her legs until she kicked them off. He moved his hands almost cautiously against the back of her panties sliding his hands under them and pushing them down and away. She said nothing as he stood up appraising her naked body from above, she simply pulled off his pants and boxers before kissing his hard stomach before moving her lips to the spot on his inner thigh that she had found make him useless for anything but this. He gasped moving her back on the bed and crashing himself down over her.
That was the way it was going to be, slow and deliberate, silent but expressive, neither voicing the fears inside of their heads. Still he heard it, each time his lips moved from hers, her nearly silent fearful tears.
(When it dawned on them)
"Are you sure?" He asked her sweetly, still holding her hair as he wiped her lips with a wash cloth like he head in the hospital just a few days ago.
"Yeah. I.. I felt like this yesterday too. I'll be fine in an hour or so. It's just a morning thing." She felt him flinch beside her, his hand moving through her hair she was about to ask him what was wrong when she saw the way he was looking at her.
"Jordan.." Her hand went to her mouth.
"Oh God." She heard herself whimper, tying to remember dates, count days. "Oh my God…"
"Hey." He took her firmly by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. She felt the tears spill over her eye lids. "Jordan?"
All she could do was nod, her shoulder moving beneath his hand in a shrug. Now he looked like he was going to throw up.
"I.. oh my God… I didn't think.. I.." She tried to explain to him, know he was picturing the scene, her laying in the grass not breathing. How they'd pumped her stomach at the hospital. The empty bottles lined up by the sink. He rubbed his hand up her arms. "Oh God, what did I do?"
"You didn't know." He told her softly, folding his arms around her again. She let him pull her up and walk her back down to the living room couch. He got her a glass of water. Looking at the clock. "I'll call Santana, tell her what's going on and we'll go back to the-." He stopped when he heard the banging on the door.
"Woody? Woody, come on man, don't make me bust down the damn door!" He looked at Jordan quickly before moving away and turning the lock. Matt swung the door open and looked at them sympathetically. "I'm sorry guys."
He was, Jordan could tell. She smiled at him.
"The ballistics confirmed the gun as the murder weapon." He told them softly. "I'm sorry, Jordan." She felt a tear slip down her cheek. She didn't care. She didn't care about the case, what she hadn't done. All she cared about was what she had done. "I have to take you in." He made a move towards her before Woody moved into the space between them. "Woody, I have to cuff her. Walcott-."
"I swear to God Seely if you touch her-." He stopped himself clinching his fists in front of his squinting eyes. He held out his hand. "Give me the-." His voice trailed off and Matt dropped the cuffs into his hand. He pulled the key from them putting it in his pocket before he knelt down in front of Jordan. "She.. she needs to go back to the hospital." Woody told him, moving the metal rings around her wrists. Matt nodded as Woody carefully pulled Jordan to her feet he stood behind her, holding her up before he nodded at Seely.
"You have the right to remain silent.."
"This time you have to do it, Sweetheart." Woody whispered to her in a shaking voice. She nodded.
"if you wave that right anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." She could feel Woody's chest quake against her back, she wished she could hold his hands. "You have the right to an attorney.."
"I'll call Kim from the car." He murmured in her ear.
"If you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed to you…"
A/N I didn't think we were going here. There are a lot of 'Jordan having a baby' stories out there and they just had a baby in my last story.. I don't know if this is going to work out.. it's just where the little characters in my head took me…
