A/N: Yet again, let me appologize for the delay in getting this chapter out. I have no excuse other than I'm busy with life and I couldn't get the chapter to work with me in coming out.

And as always, I own nothing...

After a long pause I finally heard Woody sigh again on the other end of the line. My eyes remained closed as my head rested on the pillows and I pictured him sitting on his bed with his phone held to his ear.

"I think my feelings about you have pretty clear over the years, Jo," he started softly.

"I'd have to argue with that, Woods," I whispered to myself, so faintly I could hardly hear myself and was sure he hadn't heard me.

My eyes jolted open when I heard him say, "Point taken," by way of an answer. "Let me try that again. For the most part," he emphasized, "I think my feelings for you have been pretty damn obvious. Wouldn't you agree?"

I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes as I sat up straight on the couch yet again. "Yes, Woody, I know that you've found me attractive and..." I paused, searching for the right word, and failing miserably I settled with, "... interesting."

"Dammit Jordan," he blurted, "you know it goes a hell of a lot further than that!"

I ducked my head in shame, hiding my eyes, as though he could see me from the miles across town that separated us.

"You know I cared about you," he continued, "that I wanted..." he stopped short and I heard him blow out a breath of frustration, "...something," he finished, sounding almost defeated. Several beats went by before he began again. "But every time I thought I was- that we were- getting somewhere, you'd freak out and go all distant... push me away."

None of this came as a shock to me, of course. I know my habit for running when things got serious better than anyone else does. And while I did feel bad for subjecting Woody to my troublesome relationship issues, I couldn't let him place the blame entirely on me.

I snorted, "Way to call the Pot 'black' there, Kettle."

"Jordan," Woody practically growled.

"What?!" I raged. "I am not going to take the fall for every problem in our... our..." I stammered trying to find a word that defined us, and ultimately gave up. "I seem to recall something about 'Get the hell out' when I had just told you..." I fumbled again. "And then there was the time you didn't want to be my 'Rebound Guy'! I don't know Woods, looks like you've taken a few lessons on pushing people who care about you away too!" My face was flushed now and I could feel the blood pulsing through my veins.

It was a mistake. I should never have called.

I tried to slow my breathing and calm myself down. "Woody. You know, I'm really sick of running around in circles with this. We could analyze you and I and our 'issues' until Nigel loses his accent and it wouldn't do any good." My gaze fell down to my lap and I shook my head sadly. "I didn't call to argue with you. I'm sorry I woke you," I said softly. "I'll let you get back to sleep."

As I moved the phone from my ear I head Woody call out, "Jordan! No, wait!"

I put the phone back to my ear. "What Woody?" I asked tiredly.

"You gonna give up that easy?" he asked. I couldn't tell from his voice if he was teasing me or trying to piss me off... but I have no doubt he knew those words would again light the fire of fight in me.

"Give up?" I demanded incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about, Woody?"

"Well, you know," now I could hear the smile playing on his face, "I thought you called to ask me a question. Something about a letter?" he teased.

My head fell back against the couch cushions again. I was tired. Sure, I hadn't slept in days, but it wasn't that. I was just tired of us being us. "It really doesn't matter anymore, Woody. Just forget I ever asked."

"No, I won't," he said calmly. "And if you'd just for once shut your mouth long enough for me to finish a sentence, let alone a whole thought, then maybe you'd get your answer. Deal?"

Aw, hell, what did I have to lose?

"Yeah, sure. Deal,"

"Now, as I was saying before..." he started again. "I think you've known how I've felt about you. And I can't say I know for sure, but I'd imagine that people who care about someone else," he chose his words carefully, "the way I did about you for years, that, well..." he paused, "that after a while they start picturing what it would be like to be with that person. To kiss her any time he wanted. To go dancing with her, make her dinner, and then be able to wrap his arms around her as they both drifted off to sleep. To wake up next to her every morning and be amazed that she was still there."

That last sentence tore at my heart, because I knew it was directly pointed at me, that no matter what could, even hypothetically, happen between us, Woody would always have a fear that I would do what I do best: run. I wanted to say something, but I had promised to keep my mouth closed for the time being. Besides, deep down it really did still matter to me why he wrote what he did, and I needed to hear it from him.

"And they just keep coming" he pushed on, amazing me how easily the words fell from his lips now, "Like maybe ones of taking her home to Wisconsin to show her where you fell out of the tree and broke your arm. Or renting a big old Cadillac just so this time you could make-out like a couple of teenagers in the back seat."

A lop-sided grin curled my lips. "And after all of those visions have played out in your head, come the ones where you can see her standing next to you looking positively stunning in a long gown, holding her hand in yours, pledging that she will never run again."

By now I could feel the heat of tears fill my eyes. "And then finally," he said, his voice still strong and steady, as if daring me to doubt his words, "finally you see a little girl with brown pig-tails bouncing as she runs up and wraps her arms around your legs when you get home. And she looks up at you with her mom's whiskey-colored eyes and your heart melts when she says, 'Daddy, I missed you.'"

I tried to hide the sniffle as I wiped at the wetness on my cheeks. I don't know how successful I was.

"I guess, Jordan," he mused, "that the reason why I'd pictured you as a mother would be the same as it would for many people when they are in love with someone. I guess I just had this fairy tale picture of you and me, someday finally getting our acts together and, well... living life happily-ever-after with 2.5 kids, a dog and a mortgage."

"Who exactly are these people with .5 of a kid?"

Woody pounced. "Ah ha! I knew you couldn't keep quiet!"

I smiled. Busted. "Sorry," I apologized. "You were saying?"

"It's okay, Jordan, I was pretty much finished. And now you have your answer." He grew quiet for a few seconds. "So if you'd like to just forget this whole conversation ever happened and go back to your cleaning spree, then I'm willing to play along."

"No," I said. "I don't want to forget it happened." I curled my legs up toward my chest and wrapped my free arm around them. No way did I want to forget those words... not that I could forget them, even if I wanted to. "Why didn't you ever tell me any of this before Woody?"

"You mean other than wanting to avoid the Jordan-shaped hole in the nearest exit?" he laughed, a beautiful sound falling on my ears. That was something I'd missed lately as well.

"Touché." I replied simply, smiling again.

A silence again came over the line, but this time a comfortable one. I could almost feel him sitting next to me, and I wished he was there to rest my head upon his shoulder.

"Hey," he said softly, "look out the window."

I turned my head and glanced out the tall windows of my apartment. The sky was beginning to change from the blackness of night to the darkened emerald color of the early pre-dawn hour.

"The sun will be coming up soon," he stated the obvious. "You have to go in to work today?" he asked.

"No, I'm off for the whole weekend."

"Me too." Another beat passed. "Put on your running shoes and meet me at the docks in 20 minutes?" he asked.

The smile on my face now broke out into a full-fledged grin. "Tell you what... You promise to make a batch of your world-famous blueberry waffles when we're done and you've got yourself a deal, Farm Boy."

I swear I could hear the twinkle of his blue eyes, "As you wish, Jordan."

A/N: I PROMISE that the next (and final) chapter will be out soon, as I have only about two paragraphs left in it to write... and you know reviews help the writing happen. :)