A/N: Oh my gosh, it's been such a long time since I updated this. Sorry about that, but I had writers block. And thanks to my new pal, Radhi, for inspiring me to get my butt in gear.
Anytime
Woody dialed the number. It was picked up on the first ring.
"Hello?"
"Jordan? I mean Tina?" Woody asked into the phone. He thought he might have been hearing things. He still wasn't used to having Jordan around, even if she wasn't really Jordan.
"Ya. Detective Hoyt?" She sounded scared and confused.
"Call me Woody." He said automatically. "What's the matter?"
"This is a weird favor, but could you meet me somewhere?"
"Anywhere." Woody answered truthfully. He would go anywhere for Jordan.
"Well, I'm not sure it actually exists. Have you ever heard of a place called Summit View?"
Woody couldn't figure out why she would want to meet at that old place, but he decided to play along. "Ya, I've heard of it. We – I worked a case there a few years back." He had to be careful not to imply that she was someone she didn't think she was.
Jordan listed off the address of the hospital. "It's there, isn't it?'
"Ya, but – "
"Can you meet me there in ten minutes?"
"Ya, I guess, but Jor-"
"Thanks, Woods." Woody continued to try and argue that it was doubtable that they would let them in at this time off night, but the line was dead.
"She hung up on me." Woody said to his empty apartment. Some things never change. Beg me to do something, then hang up with a 'Thanks, Woods'. It was too common a scene, at least this time, it didn't seem like he'd have to risk his job, but the night wasn't over yet.
It wasn't until he was in his car and almost there that he realized that she had know the name and address of the place. He hadn't thought about it since the last time he had been there. How could she, who remembered almost nothing else, remember a mental hospital?
When he pulled up, there was already a dark SUV waiting there. When he got out, she got out.
"What did they do with the tree?" Jordan asked immediately.
"What tree?" Woody asked, confused.
"Don't play dumb. There was a tree right there, in the middle of those flowers." She pointed to a round spot where flowers were growing.
"I don't remember there ever being a tree there. Maybe a stump, a long time ago. But never a tree."
"But I remember that tree. I remember a picture of me. Beneath that tree. So that tree existed. Tell me where it went." Jordan said forcefully.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe it was another tree, at another nut-house." Woody was getting frustrated with her now.
"Who's Emily Cavanaugh?"
"Your mother. Why?" Woody instantly knew he'd made a mistake. Jordan put her hand over her mouth in shock and leaned against the side door of her SUV.
"She was here. That's why I connect that tree with a file for here with her name. That's why there was a picture of me, here. I must have been visiting her." Here, Jordan started crying. Instinctively, Woody put his arms around her and pulled her close, careful not to hurt her bandaged arm. She didn't pull away, like he'd expected, instead she collapsed in his arms, sobbing. At the same time Woody was trying to comfort her, a woman who didn't know who she was, or their history together, he was still overjoyed to have her back in his arms.
"I'm sorry." Jordan said after she'd calmed down and pulled away from Woody, much to his dismay.
"Don't ever apologize to me. You have nothing to be sorry about." Woody said softly.
"Thank you. For everything."
"Anytime, Jo. Now, is there anything else you need to talk about?"
"Are there any good bars around?" Even with her strange question, Woody had suspected it would come sooner or later.
"I have one in mind."
"We used to come here a lot, didn't we?" Jordan asked with a long swig of her beer. Her and Woody were at the nearly empty bar of the Irish pub the gang had started to come to after the Progue had been closed down and sold.
"Yes, we did." Woody said, taking a drink of his own beer.
There was a long silence before either of them talked again. "Woody, have I ever been to LA?" Jordan asked.
"Umm, Tina? I thought you said you lived there for the past three years. All happy while I was hear thinking you were dead, and really you were just living life in LA with some new guy." The words tumbled out of Woody's mouth before he could stop them.
"I meant did Jordan-me ever go to LA, you pig." Jordan muttered the last words under her breath.
"Ya, a couple of times. A few times when she was messed up and ran away, and a couple a more times when she thought I needed saving." Woody said bitterly, unsure what was coming over him.
"I thought so. You never thought you needed my help." Jordan stated coolly.
"You're right. Because I didn't" Woody lied bluntly.
"Nice chatting to you, Detective Hoyt, but I think I've got to go now." She said venomously as she threw money on the bar for her drinks and threw on her coat. She was out the door before Woody could react. He threw down money for his own drinks and hastily put on his own coat.
"Jordan, wait!" He ran until he caught up with her, she was down the alleyway to the parking lot where they had each parked. Woody wouldn't realize it until later, but she was taking a shortcut he hadn't shown her to the parking lot from the bar.
"Do you think the last three years have been peachy for me?" Jordan said furiously. "Not knowing who I am, or why my heart broke every time a saw a Cadillac, or heard certain songs, or even thought about the state of Wisconsin!"
"Tina! I didn't mean it that way." Woody was getting his own emotions in check with every word she screamed.
"Ya know what, call me Jordan. I must have been her in a past life. Some stupid person stupid enough to become friends with an arrogant, self-righteous jerk like you!" Woody could tell that she was upset, and that made him more upset, knowing that he had caused it.
"We were more than friends, Jordan. I loved you. The worst part is, you haven't changed a bit. For nearly eight years, you were all I could think about, all I wanted. And all you could do was push me away. Except when you rented a Cadillac when you followed me to LA, and it broke down in the middle of the desert. That was the first time you kissed me. Except late at night afteryour dad's barhad closed, when I would play old songs on the jukebox and practically beg you to dance. You always would. Except when you encouraged me to go home to Wisconsin to go hunting with me brother, whom you so graciously flirted with when he came to visit. But you still looked after me, Jo." Woody ranted, his own anger level rising. He could see tears glistening in Jordan's eyes. She took a few steps towards him, and he prepared him self for a punch, or a hissed threat in his ear, something more Jordan-ish than she actually did.
Jordan planted a small kiss on Woody's cheek. "Thank you, Farmboy."
Woody looked down into her eyes, confused, especially with his added nickname in there. "For what?"
"For everything. You talked some sense into me, and made me realize who I really am. Can I see you again tomorrow?"
"Anytime, Jordan, anytime."
A/N: Aww, fiddlesticks. That wasn't supposed to go that way! Woody was supposed to meet Jordan at her hotel so she could fling a pillow at him. And he wasn't supposed to be so moody. Well, I hope you like it anyway, even if it didn't do what it was told to. And once again, very sorry for the wait for this chappie.
If you review, it will make me feel better about this not going the right way. Hint hint.
Love, Callieach
