Word Count: 2599
Summary: Based on the song He Gets That From Me, by Reba McEntire.
Disclaimer: I don't own Crossing Jordan or the characters.

Jordan rested her hand lightly on Jake's chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of his breathing. She studied his face, taking in the peacefulness of his sleep. Though Woody had been gone for months, she sometimes felt like she was watching him here in their son. Jake's hair was tousled, its light brown strands catching hints of blonde where the evening light filtered in. She remembered how Woody's hair had that same glint in the sun, the way it seemed to brighten in the summers, a shade lighter than her own dark curls. Jake looked so much like him, especially in these rare, quiet moments.

But mornings—those were never quiet. Jake, like Woody, always had something to say. Woody would launch into conversation at the crack of dawn, his rapid-fire storytelling filling the house as he talked about his dreams, his plans for the day, or whatever thoughts had crossed his mind overnight. It was both infuriating and endearing, especially to Jordan, who was never a morning person. She could barely process her own thoughts before her first cup of coffee, let alone keep up with Woody's chatter.

Now, Jake seemed to have inherited his father's morning enthusiasm. She heard him rustling awake, and before long, he bounded out of bed, his tiny feet pattering across the floor. He practically slid into the kitchen, his wide eyes scanning the countertop.

"Mom, can I have a peanut butter sandwich? And a big one, not like those little ones from yesterday. Daddy made them bigger."

Jordan chuckled softly, already reaching for the bread. Peanut butter sandwiches had been Woody's thing too—a snack, a quick meal, a favorite comfort food. She used to tease him about it, but he'd grin and make one for her anyway, insisting it was "breakfast of champions." He'd even taught Jake the secret to a "perfect" peanut butter sandwich: an extra-thick layer in the middle. Jake took this sandwich business very seriously now, and she couldn't help but smile as she spread the peanut butter generously, adding an extra dollop just the way Woody would have.

As she handed the sandwich to Jake, he beamed, his face bright with that little dimple flashing in his face that made him look so much like Woody. The resemblance tugged at her heart, but it also grounded her, reminding her that a part of Woody was still here with them.

Jake munched on his sandwich, talking a mile a minute about the book they were reading in class, about how he wanted to be an astronaut, and how he needed new crayons because he'd "totally used up" the red and green ones. Jordan, still struggling to wake up, smiled and nodded, catching only snippets of his rambling but grateful for the sound of his voice filling the kitchen. He sounded so much like Woody that sometimes, if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine he was sitting across from her, his animated gestures making her laugh.

The day went by in the usual blur of routines, but that evening, after Jordan had settled onto the couch, she heard music coming softly from the other room. She knew it was Jake. She'd seen him eyeing Woody's guitar every now and then, the one Woody had kept propped up in their living room like a promise he'd never quite had the time to keep.

Woody hadn't always known how to play. In fact, Jordan was the one who'd taught him a few years back, after he'd mentioned wanting to learn. She remembered the way he'd grinned as she showed him the basics, his enthusiasm making up for his awkward fingers. He'd practiced whenever he could, sometimes picking up songs surprisingly well, though his schedule kept him from ever getting too advanced.

She peered around the corner, and there was Jake, sitting on the carpet with Woody's old guitar. The guitar was oversized in his small hands, but he cradled it gently, his fingers hovering over the strings as he plucked out clumsy notes. He'd taught himself to play, probably by watching tutorials, but Jordan hadn't realized how serious he'd become. Jake's fingers moved slowly, unsure but persistent. Woody would've loved to see it. He'd kept that guitar for years, always promising to pick it up again one day, though he never got around to it. But here was Jake, giving life to the music that Woody never quite got to play.

The music was simple and halting, but each note hit her with a wave of memory. Woody's guitar had sat untouched for so long, and now Jake was bringing it to life with his tiny hands. She stayed in the corner and listened, her heart aching with both pride and sorrow. Woody would've loved this, seeing his son carrying on with something they'd shared. She walked into the room, watching as Jake, small and focused, handled the guitar with delicate concentration. He had the same intense look Woody used to get when he was practicing, trying to master even the simplest of chords. She wondered if Jake even knew that his father had played, however briefly.

Jake glanced up, noticing her in the doorway, and grinned, looking slightly sheepish. "Hey, Mom. I'm… not very good yet."

Jordan walked over and knelt beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You're doing great, Jake," she whispered. "Did I ever tell you that I was the one that taught your daddy to play?"

Jake's eyes lit up, widening in surprise. "You taught daddy?" he asked in awe. He looked down at the guitar, as if it had suddenly become even more precious.

"Yeah," she nodded, her voice soft with memory. "He wasn't half bad, either. I think he would've gotten pretty good, if…" She trailed off, feeling the familiar pang in her chest. But then she saw Jake's eager smile, and it softened the ache.

They sat together for a while, Jake playing his improvised notes, and Jordan listening, offering a few quiet tips. As he strummed, Jake looked up at her, his voice full of shy pride. "Do you think daddy would be proud of me?"

Jordan's throat tightened, but she managed a small smile, her hand gently squeezing his. "He was so proud, Jake. And I know he'd love hearing you play."

Jake's grin returned, that little dimpled smile that had belonged to Woody first. As the last notes faded, Jordan found herself thinking of those late nights when Woody would ask her to show him something new on the guitar. He'd laugh at his own mistakes, talk endlessly about how he'd make time to play more, but life had always seemed to get in the way.

Later, after tucking Jake into bed, Jordan lingered beside him, feeling a surge of gratitude and longing. Jake looked up at her, his blue eyes mirroring his father's familiar warmth.

"Mom," he murmured, "sometimes I wish daddy was here to play with us. Do you think he'd teach me a new song?"

Jordan felt a lump rise in her throat, but she nodded, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "I think he'd be right here with us, Jake. And he'd love every minute."

Jake's face grew serious, and he closed his eyes, looking so much like her for a moment when she was thinking hard about something. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, before opening his eyes again. When she smiled at him, he smiled back, though not the same as before. "I miss him."

She kissed his cheek, her heart swelling with both love and loss. Jake was a living memory, carrying so many pieces of Woody in his smile, his humor, his boundless energy. She left his room feeling both hollow and filled to the brim with all the love she'd held for Woody, now passed on to Jake. "I miss him too." Then, quietly, as if speaking to someone else far away. "So much."

That night, she sat alone in the living room, her hand resting on Woody's guitar. She imagined him here, complaining about her stubbornness, especially about the cases that were no longer theirs but still he heard about, because everyone would end up complaining to him about her. He would be laughing at her reluctance to wake up early, teasing her about how she could never keep up with his chatter. She remembered the way he'd light up, talking about anything and everything in that fast-paced rhythm of his. He'd been a whirlwind, a constant stream of words and laughter that filled her days. And now, Jake carried on that same spirit, filling their home with echoes of Woody's presence.

Even if Jake had the same serious face as her, he still managed to somehow have his too at times. When she first saw him with the guitar, strumming some chords, she thought back to all those years ago, back before things got complicated.

Jordan picked up Woody's old guitar, one he had bought without her even knowing. They weren't exactly on speaking terms then. Her fingers rested on the strings, barely pressing down, her mind far away in a memory from years before—back when the Pogue was their main haunt, and she was still pretending to not notice Woody in any way that wasn't friend.

It had been a Tuesday night at the Pogue, long after closing, and Jordan was winding down. The last few patrons had gone, and Max had left her there to clean up as she asked, with his fatherly look that was already an unspoken tradition with him and Woody to make sure the young detective would behave – Max knew very well he would – and she found herself at the bar, casually strumming her guitar, letting the day fade away with each chord. She'd been working on a tune that had become a kind of evening ritual—a little set of chords she'd made up for herself.

That was when Woody came in from the back, catching her off guard with a soft cough. "So, I didn't know you played," he said, his eyes bright with curiosity.

Jordan looked up, giving him a half-smile. "Didn't know you cared," she teased, her fingers brushing over the strings as if to dismiss the moment, not wanting him to see how much it meant to her to share this part of herself.

"Are you kidding? I didn't know the Jordan Cavanaugh had a softer side," he grinned, leaning over the bar with that easy, familiar smile. "Mind if I sit?"

She shrugged, trying to look unfazed, but she nodded, and he slid onto the stool next to her.

"So," he began, a bit awkwardly, scratching his neck. "Could you, uh, show me? I mean, how to play?"

Jordan raised an eyebrow, surprised. She hadn't thought of Woody as the type to want to learn guitar—or anything quiet or subtle, for that matter. But there was something sweet about the way he asked, an earnestness she hadn't expected. She found herself nodding before she'd even thought it through. "Sure. But fair warning—I don't have a ton of patience."

"Perfect," he replied with a grin, stretching his fingers as if he were about to take on a serious challenge. "I'm a quick learner."

She rolled her eyes and handed him the guitar, her fingers brushing against his as he took it. His hand was warm and steady, and she found herself looking at it a bit longer than she meant to. "Okay, hotshot," she said, guiding his fingers to form a simple chord. "Start with this—don't worry about the sound just yet. Just… feel where your fingers need to go."

Woody's hands were large, his fingers clumsy against the strings. "Man, this is harder than it looks," he admitted, his usual cockiness softening into an uncharacteristic humility.

Jordan watched him struggle, adjusting his hand gently, patient in a way she didn't realize she could be. "Relax your hand. It's not about force—it's about feeling," she explained, her voice quiet in the dimness of the bar.

He glanced up at her, his face unusually serious. "Feeling, huh? Well, guess I've got a lot to learn." But the moment didn't linger; Woody quickly flashed his grin, back to his playful self, and after a few more bumbling attempts, he managed to play a halting version of her tune. His face lit up with a boyish excitement.

After that, they started staying late every now and then, with Jordan showing him more and more. It became a ritual, unspoken but sacred. She'd sit with him, correcting his fingers, offering tips, watching his face shift between concentration and self-doubt, and then finally, that grin when he'd get something right.

Eventually though, as all good things in her life, their little thing was over. The Pogue had closed, things had gotten complicated, life got in the way.

Years later, when things had managed to get back to a sort of normal, Jordan had picked up on his little secret. He'd kept practicing, sneaking in chords here and there, until she caught him one night strumming on his own. He'd laughed, sheepishly, then surprised her by playing the tune she'd shown him all those years ago. It was a little clumsy still, but his hands were steady, and his eyes never left hers.

When she asked him where he got the guitar, he looked down, before, with a small smile that didn't manage to show his dimples, he told her he had purchased it when he was recovering from the shooting.

"The apartment was too quiet." He had said, and she didn't answer. There was no answer possible, not because too much time had passed, but too much had passed. Too much had happened for that moment in time to be brought up. Instead, she once again corrected the position of his hand, pretending not to feel something when their hands touched. He seemed to pretend the same thing too, because it was easier to pretend than to mention anything about it once again.

Now, alone with his guitar in the stillness of their home, Jordan felt Woody's presence as if he were sitting right beside her, sharing that simple moment. She smiled, knowing he'd found his own way into her music and made it something beautiful.

In the quiet, she looked up, as if he were somehow still there with her. She felt his memory alive in every note, every word, every look on Jake's face. With a smile, she picked up the guitar. She placed her hands as if to play, but her fingers never moved to play any chord. Instead, her mind wandered back to all those nights in the Pogue where she taught him how to play, back to when their ritual returned, just differently. She pretended as if it was him holding the guitar, and she was correcting his hands again. With a lonesome tear she didn't mean to have escaped running down her face, she smiled.

"The house is too quiet."

The End

Ever since I first heard this song, the story idea has been stuck in my head. It's finally come to life. Hope everyone enjoys it!