Chapter 3

Jordan knocked for third time on Peter Winslow's door, before beginning to pound as hard as she could. Eventually, the door opened, revealing a very weary looking man. Jordan smirked. "You look like hell. Can I come in?"

"Do I have a choice in the matter?"

Jordan ducked under Peter's arm and into his apartment. "Not really."

Peter sighed in resignation. He was dressed in a t-shirt and a simple set of boxers. He looked like he hadn't showered in the days since she'd last seen him. His apartment didn't look much better either. Take out cartons and pizza boxes were strewn across the floor. It looked like Peter hadn't left the place once in the two days he'd taken off from work. Jordan spotted a suspicious looking syringe on a countertop and held it up for Peter to see. He shrugged. "It's empty. Take it back to the lab and test it if you want."

"If you didn't use it, then why do you have it?" She asked softly. The syringe, on further inspection, did look clean. He could have sterilized it, but junkies weren't often known for their cleanliness. Jordan honestly believed Peter, but she thought it might be good for him to talk out his problem.

Peter plopped down into an overstuffed chair and took a swig of his open beer. "My brother's dead, Jordan. My ex-wife is dead. My career is hanging by a thread. I have no one left that I would actually consider family, besides you guys at work. And to top it all off, the only woman I've ever truly been in love with hates my guts."

Jordan just stared at him, waiting for him to continue. Again, Peter sighed. "I was tempted. Okay? But I called and talked to my NA sponsor, and he convinced me to flush the drugs instead of taking them. There. Are you happy? Search the apartment if you like. You won't find anything."

Jordan thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Come on. You need to get dressed."

"What for?"

"Dancing. You're supposed to be my date tonight. Remember?"

"You're insane."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to get that checked." She deadpanned, eliciting a small laugh from Peter. "Come on. I hate being the third wheel. And how could I waste this outfit, in good conscience?"

Jordan was wearing a skin-tight, knee-length leather skirt and an Azure blue peasant top with a pair of knee-high, lace up, high heeled boots. She looked hot, to say the least. A fact which made Peter grow suspicious. "What are you up to, Jordan?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Bull."

Jordan sighed. "Look, suffice it to say that I'm not sure that Jessie is the right person for Nigel. I thought I'd talk to him about it tonight. I mean, look at what she did to you in the bar!"

Peter shook his head. "Jessie is a great person. Trust me, she has good reason to be angry with me."

"Yeah, what is it with you two, anyway?"

"You aren't gonna let this go are you?"

"Not likely," Jordan replied sitting down in the chair he offered.

"We were lovers. She wanted me to make a commitment. I told her I would, and then backed out unexpectedly. Now, she's pissed. End of story."

Jordan gave him a skeptical look. "Seems a bit more complicated than that."

"It is. But I really don't want to go into it." Peter shrugged.

"Do you still love her?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does if she's still loves you. You should be together."

"But she's with Nigel, now..." Peter's eyes went wide. "Wait a minute. Is that what this is all about? You're jealous?"

The way Jordan opened and closed her mouth without making a sound reminded Peter a lot of a fish. In all honesty, she was jealous. She really did care for Nigel. And with Peter asking her the point-blank question, she found it nearly impossible to deny. All she could do was shrug.

Peter scrutinized her face for a few seconds in silence. Then, he seemed to make up his mind and nodded. "Alright, give me a few minutes to get ready. Make yourself at home."

He went into his bedroom and emerged fifteen minutes later, showered and dressed for the evening. Peter wore a simple white button-down shirt with a black vest and tight black jeans. His collar was left open for about three buttons, showing off a chest Jordan might have thought quite nice, if her mind was not otherwise occupied. He grinned at her approving look. "Alright, let's do this."

Jessie and Nigel had been dancing and drinking for about an hour, by the time Jordan and Peter showed up at the pre-arranged location. It was a rock club not much different from Elysium. The only discrepancies were the DJ playing a steady mix of new wave, punk, and classic rock, and the distinct lack of vampiric clientele. Nigel was the first to spot Jordan from the dance floor. He waved at her to follow him and Jessie to their table. When he caught sight of who was with her, Nigel mentally kicked himself. He'd forgotten that he'd invited Peter. Looking at Jessie, as they sat down at the table that held their drinks, he could tell she hadn't overlooked Jordan's date either. When Jordan and Peter reached the table through the throng of dancers, Jessie looked positively livid.

"What are you doing here?" she growled out.

Nigel coughed guilty. "I invited him, luv."

That earned him a glare from his girlfriend. Before Jessie could say anything, though, Jordan cut her off. "Look. I know there's bad blood between you and Peter, but we're all adults here. I'm sure we're all mature enough to get along and have a good time for one night."

Jessie and Peter stared into each other's eyes, each sizing the other up mentally. The tension between them was almost tangible. After a few seconds, Jessie nodded. "Okay, I'm a big girl. I can be good for one night."

Peter simply nodded to Jordan who sighed. "Okay. That's settled." she said, tossing her jacket over the back of one of the chairs. "So who wants to dance with me?"

"Don't look at me." Nigel replied. "I think I'll need a good ten minutes to catch my breath. This lovely's been running me ragged."

Jessie giggled. "You tucker out too easy, old man."

"Bite your tongue." Nigel scolded. "You have no business calling me an old man. I'm barely five years older than you."

Jordan raised an eyebrow. Jessie couldn't be as old as Nigel had implied. She didn't look a day over twenty-one. In fact, it had occurred to Jordan when she first met the bounty hunter that Nigel must be going through some kind of mid-life crisis if he was dating her. "Wait a minute, how old are you?"

"I'll be thirty-two in three weeks." Jessie replied.

"That's right!" Nigel replied, excitedly. "We'll have to throw you a party or something. What day was it again?"

"Thursday the 23rd."

They were the first words Peter had spoken since arriving, and everyone turned to look at him. They seemed to just remember he was there. Jessie had an unreadable expression on her face. Nigel simply nodded. Jordan looked at him quizzically. He shrugged. "Same as mine."

There was an awkward moment before Jessie let out a sigh and turned to Jordan. "Well, since Nigel's dead on his feet, why don't we leave the boys here and go shake our tail-feathers?"

Jordan put her hand in Jessie's offered one. "Sounds good."

As the girls disappeared from view in the mass of bodies on the dance floor, the waitress arrived and they ordered a round of fresh drinks. Nigel turned to Peter after the beverages arrived, wanting to dissipate the awkward silence between them. "So."

"So."

"You're the infamous Rocky, then?"

Peter winced. Jessie had obviously told his co-worker about their relationship. He wondered how much Nigel really knew about her. Did he know Jessie was Kindred? Was he part of the Herd? It had been so long since Peter had thought about any of this. The flood of memories caused him to unconsciously brush the spot on his shoulder which held his small tattoo of the letter H. "That would be me, I guess. No one's called me that in a long time."

"Twelve years. Jessie told me."

For some reason, that comment made Peter angry. "Yeah, well...is there a point to this conversation?"

"You hurt her, you know." Nigel replied calmly.

Peter deflated a bit. "I know."

"You should talk to her." Nigel didn't know quite why he was saying this to Peter. Not many men would try to proffer a peace between a current girlfriend and her ex-boyfriend. However, Nigel knew that Peter and Jessie were still hurting. As much as he cared for Jessie, he knew that she was still in love with her old flame. And it was entirely possible that Peter was in love with her as well. That, and the fact that Nigel himself was in love with Jordan meant that he didn't mind so much trying to mend things between his two friends. "You'd do her a world of good if you two just sat down and talked out your differences."

Peter raised an eyebrow. He didn't expect Nigel to be so sage-like about the matter. He really did want to talk things over with Jessie but there was the problem of getting her to speak to him in the first place. Nigel seemed to have that covered too. "I'm going to go steal Jordan away for a dance. I'll send Jessie back."

Nigel went out to the dance floor, and moments later Jessie took his seat at the table. For a few minutes, she and Peter didn't say a word to each other. She seemed to be studying him. She wasn't glaring at him anymore. That was good, but the look she was giving Peter made him possibly more uncomfortable than the dirty ones. He sighed and asked, "What?"

"It's just...you seem so different." Jessie commented with only the barest hint of malice in her voice. She seemed more saddened by her observation than anything else. "You used to be so full of life, Rocky. You used to love nothing so much as the wind in your hair, and the pavement under your wheels. Now you spend all day hacking up dead bodies. Doctor Peter Winslow, Medical Examiner. Christ, Rocky, it's almost like you're..."

Peter prompted her after she trailed off. "Almost like I'm what, Jessie?"

She shook her head. "It's not important."

"No really. I'd like to hear this. What insult have you figured out to fit me? After all these years, what do I look like to you?"

She gazed into his eyes with a look he hadn't seen in years. It was a look that only Jessie could give him, and it cut straight through his soul. "I was going to say that it's almost as if you were Ventrue."

It wasn't an insult exactly, but it cut him just the same. It meant that she saw the emptiness in him. The spirit that he'd had when she knew him had been drained away steadily, by years of conforming to high society norms, years of grueling medical training, drug use, and a failed marriage based mostly on lust and a shared desire to get high. What did one say to the essential accusation of being a lifeless bureaucrat?

Back on the dance floor, Jordan and Nigel were having a merry old time. They'd danced to several upbeat new wave songs and were currently bonding over a shared love of the band Big Country. Jordan couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much fun. She'd never really focused her attention solely on Nigel before. He just always seemed to melt into the background of her consciousness, kind of like the moon. It's always there even if you don't take the time to notice its beauty. And Nigel was beautiful, in his way, Jordan began to acknowledge. She was finally taking time to recognize all the things about Nigel that she'd never bothered to.

Up until the last few days, Nigel had simply been one of Jordan's best friends. Nigel could always be depended on to cheer her up when she was down or to laugh with her when she made a joke that no one else got. He'd always just been her Nigel. But lately, he wasn't hers anymore. It had taken Jessie and the appearance of a romantic relationship in Nigel's life for Jordan to truly see him in anything but a platonic sense. And the more Jordan danced and laughed with Nigel out on that dance floor, the more she thought it should be her in Jessie's place. She wanted to be the one in his arms.

A slow song started to play and Nigel reluctantly began to lead Jordan off the dance floor. She made a decision and pulled him back to her. "Where are you going, Nige?"

"I just thought that..." Nigel sputtered. "Well, what I mean is, I didn't think a slow dance with me would be your cup of tea, luv."

Jordan gave him a self-deprecating grin and pulled him in close to her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You thought wrong."

Nigel looked god-smacked. He wanted, now more than ever, to tell her how he felt about her. It was probably the worst time in the world to confess the feelings he'd kept inside for nearly a decade. But as he danced with Jordan Cavanaugh to a punk rock cover of "Mandy," the moment was pure magic, and Nigel found the words coming to his lips. He held her close and took a chance.

"I love you."

Neither one was sure who had said it first. Jordan pulled back, looking into Nigel's shocked eyes. Just to make sure he'd heard her, Jordan leaned in close to his ear and repeated the words. "I love you, Nigel Townsend."

Nigel looked around, making Jordan giggle nervously. "Nige, what are you doing?"

"Don't mind me, luv. Just looking for the hidden cameras."

This had the effect of breaking the tension between them. Jordan laughed out loud this time. It was a beautiful, melodic laugh and Nigel filed it in his quickly growing mental list of things he loved about her. "Jordan, I..."

"You love me too. I know."

It was even more wondrous coming from Jordan's lips than it could have been coming from his own. Nigel Townsend was on cloud nine. The woman he'd loved, for what seemed like an eternity, knew he loved her. And what's more, she returned his love. The only thing he could think of to do was kiss her. In this, at least, he could make the first move.

The kiss began soft and simple and gained heat as they went along. Tongues tangled and teeth nibbled and the world around them melted away. It was several minutes before either of them had could bring themselves to come up for air. When they did, Jordan tucked her head into the crook of Nigel's neck. In the midst of the crowd caught up in the upbeat tempo of the Clash, Nigel and Jordan were content to slow dance.

Peter and Jessie had fallen into an awkward, if civil silence. There was so much he wanted to say to her. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for leaving her. He wanted to ask her about what had happened to Zane and why she'd left San Francisco. All he could bring himself to do was make small talk and nurse his beer.

When Jordan and Nigel finally came back to the table, they were walking a bit closer to each other than they usually did. Jessie took one look at them and knew something had changed. She stood and addressed Nigel in a broken voice. "Right then. I think I'll just go home now."

As Jessie started to walk away, Nigel caught up with her. "Luv, I..."

"You don't need to explain anything to me, Nigel. I know you love her. You don't owe me anything. I just... Well, I hope you guys will be very happy together." With that she walked out of the club.

Nigel walked back to the table. Jordan gave him a sympathetic look. She really didn't have anything against Jessie. She knew the younger woman was hurting, and that Nigel felt bad being the one to cause that pain. "So what'd she say?"

Nigel shrugged. "She wished us happiness and left. I hope she'll be alright."

"I'll go after her, make sure she gets home alright," Peter offered. "Seeing as how you've stolen my date." He threw a few tens onto the table for the drinks and started after Jessie.

"Hey, Peter." Jordan called after him. He turned to look at her and she smiled. "Thanks for everything."

Jessie leaned against the wall of the club. She couldn't believe it. One minute she'd been dancing up a storm with her boyfriend, and the next, she'd been thrown over and was now crying in a dark alley. How had she gotten to this point? She had expected Nigel and Jordan to get together eventually. The Gangrel was observant enough to know that Jordan had feelings for Nigel that matched his own. She just hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Jessie also hadn't counted on it hurting so much. She hadn't intended to get as emotionally invested in Nigel as she was.

She was happy for Nigel and Jordan. Really she was. It was nice that someone could find contentment and love, even if it wasn't her. But that thought only made her cry harder. Maybe it was seeing Peter again. She'd been on an emotional roller coaster ever since that day in the bar. Was it only two days ago? He always seemed to have that effect on her. Even just the thought of what she'd lost when he'd left her, had been able to bring her to tears for over a decade.

It didn't help that he felt the need to track her down to that alley. Jessie quickly wiped the tears from her eyes, hoping Peter wouldn't notice. It didn't work.

"Are you alright?" he asked, leaning against the wall next to her.

She laughed bitterly. "Now he asks me this," she mumbled to herself before turning to him. "Yes, Rocky, I'll be fine. It's just been a rough night, is all."

"Yeah well, I don't buy it." She wasn't the only one who could look into a person's soul.

"You know, you've got balls trying to analyze me after all these years. What makes you think I give a damn what you buy, anyway?"

"Because I know you." he replied. "You were never as hard as you pretended to be."

She gave him an incredulous look. "You don't know shit about me. Maybe you did once, but you have no idea what I've been through since then. You left, remember?"

"Alright." Peter said softly. "So, why don't you tell me?"

Jessie was startled out of her anger for a second. She had at least expected him to argue with her. She scoffed. "You want to hear about my life?"

"Yeah, I want to know all the things I missed. Come on, I'll take you home and you can bitch me out all you like. Rip me a new one if you feel the need. It just doesn't make any sense to stand out here and yell at each other all night."

She regarded him skeptically for a bit before saying, "Okay. I'll bite. But I want some answers too."

Peter nodded. "Come on, my car's in the parking garage across the street."

"Oh, hell no." Jessie replied. "If we're going to your house, we can take my wheels."

She led him around the club to where her motorcycle was parked. Peter's mouth fell open at the sight of it. She chuckled. "What? You've forgotten how to ride, too?"

"That's the Indian." He croaked. "That's Stevie's Indian. I thought the only way he'd give that up is if he was dead."

Her expression darkened again and Peter realized what he'd said. It was true, then. Stevie-Ray was dead. Jessie's Sire was dead and Peter hadn't been there to comfort her when it had happened. He saw the pain reflected in her eyes and it brought him a new wave of sadness and guilt. "Oh, JJ. I'm so sorry."

She blinked back the tears brimming in her eyes and mounted the bike. "Get on," she said. "We have a lot to talk about, and I want to be able to get home before the sun rises."

Without another word, Peter climbed onto the back of the bike and put on the helmet Jessie offered him. They rode off, their silence sharper than the night air filling their lungs.

A/N: Hehe. More angst. Sorry if the change-up bothers anyone. I felt like writing a Jordan/Nigel fic, so I did. R&R please.