Chapter Four

Love Has No Guarantees

Jordan held her breath. The whispered words hung in the room like a shout, flooding the sudden silence with an air of conflicting emotions. Jordan felt each and every one of those emotions wash over her at once. Somewhere in her logical, rational mind, a part of her was screaming at her to make some witty comment and find an excuse to leave. Saying the words out loud made it all too real for her comfort. She was only going to end up hurting him. But selfishly, the rest of her had never felt more safe and secure. For one tiny moment she tried to believe that love was enough.

In the dim light, Woody watched the play of emotions on her face. "Jordan..." his voice was strained, as raw and elemental as the rain that had started pelting the window still outside the room.

Anything else he had to say it was cut off when Jordan's limbs tightened around him.

It was still raining when Woody's internal clock woke him up. He could hear her moving around the room. He opened one eye to see a delightfully naked Jordan down on all fours on his bedroom floor.

"I must be dreaming," Woody murmurs in a sleepy Scottish brogue.

Jordan smiled recognizing the James Bond quote. "You can turn off the charm," she replied in character. "I'm immune."

Woody sat up rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Not that I'm not enjoying the view...but what are you doing down there?"

Jordan threw the edge of the bedspread back down the on the floor and stood up on her knees. With her hands on her hips she began to search the bedding in earnest. Causing Woody to hold onto the edge of the sheet for dear life.

"I'm looking for my underwear. I swear this place is like a black hole. I've lost at least a half a dozen pair in here..."

Woody felt a split second of panic. Early in his efforts to get Jordan to stay longer than a few hours he started taking her underclothes and hiding them in the bottom drawer of his dresser. He knew it was childish and in the end it was also very ineffective. She'd just leave without them and after awhile she just stopped wearing underwear over there all together.

Woody cringed and his face must have shown it. Jordan held out her hand and Woody reached under his pillow and pulled out her pale pink thong.

"Pervert," she smirked.

He held the scrap of elastic just out of her reach when she tried to take it. "Come back to bed Jordan. It's early yet...and it's still raining. Come on..."

His big blue puppy dog eyes were almost too tempting. She felt herself melting and set down on the edge of the bed. "I really have to go. I've got a lot of work to do today."

"So do I," he said, adding a smile he hoped would make her melt further. "One more hour and I'll make breakfast. Stay. Please."

She kept her eyes focused off his face. It was easier that way. It would be so easy to climb back in that warm bed and accept the simple pleasure Woody offered. They could live happily ever after with meatloaf Thursday nights and fighting over the bedcovers. Sometimes, in those quiet moments while he was sleeping, Jordan could let herself go there. Fantasies are lovely, but this is daylight. She had her own life. She simply wasn't going to tumble into something more substantial only to make the same mistakes she always had. And to tell the truth she couldn't put Woody's heart up for target practice a second time. God help her, she truly loved him too much for that.

She caught him off guard and snapped the panties out of his hand. Before she could second guess herself she quickly stepped into them and gave him a side long glance. "Woody," she sighed. "You know I'm not any good at all this...part. We had a good time last night...can't we just leave it like that...?"

His smile winked out like an old Christmas bulb. "Jordan. Wait, I thought..." his voice was jumping octaves with each word. He inhaled quickly trying to stem off his temper before it set in and failed miserably. "I thought we were finally moving on to the same page here. Last night you told me you loved me and now it's too much for you to stick around for some fucking pancakes!"

For Jordan there were so many things she could say, but none of them where what Woody wanted to hear. "I'm sorry."

"...But..." he added with more then a touch of sarcasm.

Jordan threw up her hands and left the room zeroing in on the rest of her clothes scattered around the living room. "Woody, you know how hard it is for me to admit me feelings. Please don't throw them back in my face."

Woody stabbed his legs into a pair of shorts and stormed out after her. "I'm not asking you to move in, Jordan. I'm just asking for a little more here." He kept his distance while she pulled her clothes on. "You have to admit what we're doing here, you and me" he argued pointing his finger between them. "...isn't a very healthy relationship."

She wanted to scream with frustration. She felt like crawling out of her skin. She was helpless to explain feelings and powerless to stop them. How could she explain to Woody what she didn't understand herself?

"Woody, I do love you but don't you realize I'm giving you all I can. What we have is good." Her voice broke and Woody felt it deep in his chest. "You were the one who said there aren't any guarantees in love. If we keep this...uncomplicated...it'll be easier when it's over."

Uncomplicated! The last time Woody could remember their relationship being uncomplicated was before they pulled the Bill Clinton mask off the body in that bank all those years ago and found Hillary. It just got more tangled from that point on.

"How are you so sure it's going to end?" he pleaded breathlessly.

Grabbing her bag she said, "...Because it always does."

She sloppily brushed away the tears that had started to fall and quickly cupped her hand around the nap of Woody's neck, pressing her soft lips against his rigid ones. "I need to go," she whispered.

Her fingers lingered to brush across the twitch in his jaw. He reached up to grab them. "It doesn't have to."

She gave him a watery smile. "But you can't guarantee that."

While Woody and Jordan were redrawing their lines in the sand, Matt was regretting his own big breakfast.

Alone, in front of the RV equipment that had taken up semi-permanent residence in the cubby-hole office he and Hoyt were sharing while working on this case, Seely stumbled upon the evidence they both hoped...and feared...they'd find.

There, among the thousand plus hours of kiddie porn that had been confiscated from their main suspect's residence, was the last terrifying minutes of the life of a young boy he watched autopsied that sparked the investigation.

In bright red ink, Matt antedated the date and time code from the VHS. As almost an after thought, he added the words, 'Got you dickhead'. Walcott probably would have a cow that he made a personal, highly prejudicial, note on an official police report but she could kiss his ass. He didn't see her having to stomach watching hour after hour of filth looking for the littlest clue.

It was only seven o'clock in the morning and he already had a tension headache. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes so hard that he could see stars. Unfortunately it didn't take away the pictures. That was how Lily found him.

File after file. It seemed like there's wasn't any end to them when in all actuality there was only probably a dozen. A dozen was far too many as far as Lily was concerned. Each and every one was labeled with the name of a child whose life had been ruined by the animal Matt and the others were looking for. She could only imagine that how many more children out there that were not brave enough to come forward.

It ate away at her. She offered to help. Woody had asked her to follow up with one case particularly. She made some phone calls and a few notes. She doubted she found anything that would help them but she felt like she was doing something positive.

"Are you alright," she asked softly from the doorway.

"Lily," Matt exclaimed sitting up a little straighter. "What are you doing here?"

She placed the file on the corner of his desk and pulled Woody's chair over. "I was on my way to the morgue and wanted to drop this off."

Matt thumbed through the file and made note of Lily's busywork. It wasn't anything they already didn't assume. "Thanks," he mumbled. He reached for his coffee cup as an absentminded way to dismiss her.

He knew the second Lily sat down she wanted to talk. She'd spout off some psychobabble-bullshit about putting his feelings and his work in perspective. It was one of things he hated about her. Lily was the type woman that assumed that very way he breathed had some significance to his inner sense of self. Which of course was a pile of bull. Maybe, at one time, he could have learned to tolerate it.

"Thank you. I don't mind if I do" Lily said straightening the lines of her skirt to make herself more comfortable. "Cream please."

Matt had no other choice but to make her a cup of coffee. He hoped Hoyt wouldn't mind that he used his cup.

"I worry about you."

And so it begins. "I'm flattered," Matt snorted.

Lily pushed the untouched coffee away. "I thought we were friends, Matt. Friends worry about each other."

"Yeah, well, I can worry about myself Lily. I'm sure your friend Bug has enough problems to keep you very busy."

"Bug has nothing to do with our friendship."

Matt had to smile. The sad part was Lily truly saw their so-called friendship that way. Maybe if had tried harder. Maybe if she wasn't so damn granola to his silver spoon. Maybe if Bug wasn't so...Lily. "You've ever heard the expression 'love is blind'?"

For Lily the question came out of the blue. She gave him a confused smile and said, "Yes, of course."

"Do you believe it?"

Lily's smiled softly. "I guess so. Sure. Why?"

"Because it's bullshit. Infatuation now that is dazzling, sure, at least for the short term. But love clears a person's view. You see, better, sharper, clearer because you feel more than you did before. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go to the morning briefing."