Standing Accused (Part Two)
A Crossing Jordan/House Crossover Fanfic
Chapter Eight: The Bonds We Forge
Rating: PG-13 (I think)
Word Count: 1,679
Disclaimer: I own House. Um, right. That was a lie. I don't own anything. Except seasons 1 & 2 on DVD and my own insanity. I can't even claim to own DVDs for Crossing Jordan.
Summary: When the man who shot House turns up dead in his Boston hotel room, House turns to old friends to prove his innocence.
Author's Note: Most of what I know about medicine and forensics I learned from tv. This is set somewhere after season 2 of House and season 5 of Crossing Jordan, and after my other fic "Sickness and Health," though I'm not sure you'd have to read that one to get this one. This is an AU fic, diverging from canon after season 5 and season 2, but also assume that in between "Sickness and Health" and this story, House has recovered/reverted to his cane like he did in the first episodes of season 3. However, I am not necessarily going to use anything canon from either season 6 or season 3.

This has also not been beta'd...if it's not perfect, still 100 percent my fault.

In deliberating how to end this, or at least where to go from where this chapter originally ended, I couldn't come up with a good way to tell the rest of the story...Until I did the conclusion you find at the end. Since it wasn't enough for a separate chapter, this is all in one. I have a terrible time when it comes to the end of a fic, and I was having problems getting anything to work, so... If it sucks or feels rushed, let me know. I may change it at a later time.

Chapter Eight

The Bonds We Forge

"How long do you think it will be before we know if Woody caught this guy?" Cameron asked, watching Nigel run trace on a suspected heroin OD. She liked how no one here assumed anything, didn't just accept a theory without proof.

"Hard to say, love," Nigel answered as he finished, taking off the special glasses he'd been wearing. "We might hear from them when they find him or maybe not until he confesses."

"Which might never happen," Chase added gloomily.

"Hey, now," Nigel began. "Let's be optimistic, people. Woody and Jordan are very good at what they do. Or is this discontent stemming from something else? Like your pal Foreman cracking Sydney's case for him?"

"Hundreds of people are misdiagnosed everyday," Chase answered dismissively. "If they weren't, House wouldn't have a job."

Cameron smiled at Chase, shaking her head. She knew, despite the fact that they'd found out who Moriarty's killer was, he was jealous that Foreman had solved a case of negligent homicide by correctly diagnosing the dead woman's condition.

"Cheer up," Nigel advised. "I think we may have just the thing for you two right here. Police call this a heroin OD, but do you see what I see?"

"There are no track marks," Cameron said in surprise.

"Exactly," Nigel said. "Got a brilliant diagnosis for me?"

"You never called for back up."

"Are you going to lecture me on procedure now?" Woody demanded, turning from his efforts to pry the boards covering the windows of the office. When this place had been abandoned, squatters turning it into some sort of home had boarded up the foreman's office.

"I'm not lecturing you, Woody. I'm just as guilty of ignoring procedure as you are. But no one knows where we are."

"Bug was the one who found out that Brown had a jeep for me," Woody told her. "The tip was anonymous, though. Damn it. These boards aren't coming loose."

"My cell phone's still dead," Jordan reminded him. "Are you sure you left yours in your car?"

"Do I really have to search my pockets a third time, Jordan?" he asked in irritation, losing his patience. Judging from the heat radiating from just beyond the boards and the light in between the cracks, the fire was getting closer. They were trapped. They were going to die.

"Maybe if we—"

"Shoot the lock? The boards? We tried that, remember? The only way those boards are moving is when the fire consumes them. We're stuck," he swore loudly. "I am such an idiot. If I'd radioed in or let someone else do this or waited until you were gone and I could think straight…"

She came close to him. "So this is my fault?"

"I didn't say that. What I said was, I knew I wasn't think rationally. I knew I should have waited. I haven't slept since Walcott called me in. I should have gone home, gone to sleep, and let the APB take care of Brown. Instead, I insisted on doing this myself."

"Woody, you didn't know this would happen," Jordan began, touching his arm.

He turned back to look at her. "I guess I thought if I caught this guy, if this case was closed, then maybe you…"

"Maybe I what, Woody?"

"Jordan, was it just this case? Or were you running from me?" he asked. When she turned away, he caught his arm. "I have to know. Please."

She shook her head. "I wasn't running from you. I was—I thought. I would be back in time. And my cell phone—I love you, Woody. I'm sorry about last night. I want to be with you."

"Jordan, do you mean it?"

"Yes, I mean it. Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

"Oh, there are so many reasons, but we really don't have time to go into them," he muttered as he knelt down.

"Woody, what are you doing?"

"I may not be able to do all this the way it should be done, but I am going to do this on one knee," he insisted. "Jordan, will you marry me?"

She looked around them. The fire crackled, and the heat grew more intense. "Are you asking me this because we're about to die?"

"No. I've been planning this for a long time," Woody told her. He took her hand and squeezed it. "I love you. I think I've loved you since you first insulted my tie. I want to marry you."

"That's funny," Jordan said, her voice thick. "I always thought you were the romantic, candlelit dinner, dozen flowers type of guy, Woody."

"You would have had all of that if you'd shown up last night," he told her.

"You were going to…Oh," Jordan whispered.

He reached into his pocket and took out the box, giving it to her. She opened it with trembling fingers. It came apart in her hands. She looked at him. He shrugged apologetically. "I couldn't stop playing with it. I broke the hinge."

She smiled at him, tears in her eyes as she took the solitaire out of the box and held it up to her eye. She coughed, inhaling smoke and ruining the romance of the moment. She looked at the ring again. "Somehow, I expected a different one."

"That was a friendship ring, Jordan. This is different," he assured her as he slipped the ring on her finger. A loud crash came beyond the office. It sounded like the roof of the building was caving in. "It would probably be a good idea if you answer me now."

"So, tell us again, love, how did you escape this burning building and almost certain death?" Nigel asked, placing the round of drinks on the table.

"How many times are we going to go over this?" Woody asked, reaching for his scotch.

"As many times as it takes you to come up with a believable story," Bug answered.

"Hey," Jordan protested. "I thought the part about the flare coming through the office and blowing a hole through the outer wall of the factory was very believable."

"It's about as unbelievable as that ring on your finger," Macy teased.

"Oh, stop it," Lily said, smacking Macy's arm. She smiled at Jordan and Woody. "It's so romantic. A proposal in the middle of a burning building…"

"Doesn't mean it's not surprising she said yes," House muttered.

"Says the man who won two grand betting on her acceptance," Wilson said, taking a drink of his beer.

"Sounds like some pretty high stakes."

"I think Woody's the one who took the biggest risk," Lily said. "He risked it all for love."

"Sounds to me like someone's hinting at something," House observed, looking at Bug. Bug coughed and took a sip of his drink.

"Ladies, gentlemen," Nigel said, standing up. "I would like to propose a toast."

Bug rolled his eyes at his friend's grandstanding. Jordan and Woody looked at each other and smiled. There were a lot of smiles going around the table.

"To Dr. House, for his uncanny ability to annoy people," Nigel began.

"Hey, I also got the guy to confess," House protested. "Without me, you would have never gotten anything out of him."

"If you call that delusional ranting Brown did confessing," Cuddy retorted.

Nigel smiled. "To Dr. Wilson, for his well-stocked mini-bar."

Wilson shook his head as the others laughed. Macy was the only one not enjoying a beverage from Wilson's mini-bar, and while he did his best not to show it, he wasn't happy about it, either.

"To Dr. Cuddy, for being such a foxy lady," Nigel went on, enjoying the flush that spread over her features with the others' hoots and whistles. "To Dr. Chase and Dr. Cameron, for discovering who our killer was and for helping to solve what the police so ignorantly deemed a heroin overdose."

Chase and Cameron looked at each other and smiled. "You know, we make a pretty good team."

"Oh, spare us," House muttered. "We're not putting 'Nancy Drew' and 'Scooby Doo' on your lab coats. You can forget it."

"To Dr. Foreman, for correctly diagnosing Sharon Walters." Foreman nodded, raising his glass in acceptance of everyone's cheers and clapping. "To Sydney, for showing House's team the ropes."

"Thank you, thank you," Sydney said. "Nice to know you all appreciate my skills."

"Oh, please," Bug muttered.

"To Bug, for his cheery disposition," Nigel went on; ignoring the glare Bug gave him. "To Lily, for being that ray of sunshine in all of our lives."

Lily blushed, and Bug boldly stole a kiss with everyone's approval. "To Dr. Macy, for generously allowing us to work our madness—I mean, magic."

Macy lifted his water in a mocking salute, but he softened it with a smile. Nigel looked at Woody and Jordan with a smile befitting a pleased step-uncle. "To Woodrow, who got his man and the girl."

"I don't think I can really take credit for the siding that hit Brown when the flare blew out the wall," Woody began doubtfully. He looked at Jordan, who fingered her ring.

"Relax, Farm Boy," she told him. "You did get the girl."

Another round of cheers and catcalls followed their kiss. Nigel tapped his glass to regain everyone's attention. "To Jordan, who always gets her man."

"That's right," Jordan agreed with a wicked smile. She looked at Woody. "I'm keeping him, too."

The others laughed. Nigel figured the two of them wouldn't be staying at this party for much longer, judging from their looks and the way their hands couldn't stop touching. "And, of course, to me, for my infinite genius in discovering the complexities of the criminal mind and—"

"Give it up, you ass," Bug interrupted.

Nigel nodded in an attempt at placating him, holding up his hands in surrender. "What I really meant to say was, here's to us. We're a team, friends, and family. May the bonds we have forged never be broken. May we always stand together, even when accused of murder."

The glasses clinked together, and everyone drank in agreement. The verdict was unanimous.