Hello! Thanks to those of you who reviewed...hope the rest of you are still hanging in there. This chapter is more of a set-up for the third (and final) phase of the story. Enjoy and have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Chapter Fourteen: Taken Care

For the next few weeks, Woody waited on Jordan hand and foot. He tried not to make it seem like a hospital, but more like a spa. Breakfast in bed was a common occurrence, as were massages and painting Jordan's nails.

Despite her pride, Jordan reveled in the attention. At times she even forgot that all the fuss was necessary—that she needed someone there to help her get around her own apartment. Woody was good about it, great even. Once again Jordan was faced with the overwhelming knowledge of how much she was loved.

The morgue family visited often as well. Bug and Lily came by every afternoon like clockwork. Nigel and Garret were just as frequent, if less punctual. Nigel always came with chicken noodle soup, yogurt, or some other homemade delicacy. Kate came by as well, though not as regularly.

Woody was there all the time, even when Jordan threatened to disembowel him if he didn't leave. At the beginning, she wondered how he had managed to get so much time off, but Woody's only explanation was that he'd called in a favor. Most of the time though—like when she woke up to coffee aroma and Woody caressing her cheek—Jordan's only thought was that she never wanted him to leave.

There was a knock at the door. Jordan and Woody gave each other puzzled looks…Garret had just left and the others would be at work for several hours yet. Woody gently removed Jordan's head from his lap and went over to the door. He looked briefly through the peep hole before opening it slightly. "Hi, Tony…what are you doing here?"

Upon hearing who it was, Jordan sat up from her place on the couch and quickly tried to straighten herself up. She tossed away the blanket and ran her hands through her hair. Woody noticed the gesture and gave her a smile—her preoccupation with her appearance would normally have been comical, but not right now.

Tony walked into the room brightly, completely unaware of the tension he was causing. "Hey, Cavanaugh! How's it going?"

Jordan managed a semi-polite reply before getting straight to the point. "Why are you here?"

Tony sobered a bit and became all business. "The…terrorists...they've been behaving just like little Hamas minions and haven't given up anything. We know that Hamas is planning a large-scale attack, but we don't know who or what they're targeting."

Jordan was unimpressed. "So? I mean, that sucks, but I don't have anything to do with it." By that time Woody had resumed his seat on the couch and he was surreptitiously rubbing Jordan's back.

"Gibbs wanted me to see if you had remembered anything else," Tony answered.

"Well, I don't." Her reply was short. Despite all of the physical progress she had made, Jordan was still unwilling to talk about what had happened. She preferred to keep it locked tight inside her self, not even letting Woody break that barrier. She had promised to talk to Dr. Stiles once her legs had healed, but she wouldn't consider it before then.

Tony sighed. "Jordan," he started. "Just think about it…was there anything they said that could be construed as part of a terrorist attack?"

"No! I've already told you everything I know," she said. "Most of the time they weren't even speaking English…and I wasn't concentrating on what they said anyway. I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

"Are you sure—?"

"Yes. Now please leave."

Tony's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline and he looked at Woody for an explanation. Woody merely shook his head, telling Tony not to push it.

"All right." He stood to leave. "But if you do remember anything, please call." He placed a business card on the coffee table and walked to the door.

"I will…," Jordan said audibly. The door opened and shut behind Tony. "Not."