This is my first attempt at a story. It came to my randomly and has been the firstpiece I have been able to make any sort progress on in awhile so I took it as a sign. Please review and let me know how I am doing.


Chapter One

Of Screaming and Sippy-Cups


"Don't make me feel bad," he yelled at an even louder volume.

"I can't make you feel anyway. If you feel ashamed or guilty that is you own business," she responded in a volume comparable to his.

"It was a complex situation I shouldn't have to feel guilty, there wasn't an easy choice," he shouted back.

"Even more complicated than you know," she muttered under her breath.

"What?" he asked, partly because he hadn't heard and partly because he had.

As if as an answer a bellow arose from next room. Woody was taken aback, having assumed they were alone. She sighed and once again muttered under her breath. This time he hadn't heard what she said at all but from the tone of the murmur he guessed it had been a swear word. He watched her retreating back and for the first time took in the apartment in which he was standing. He knew it well and had just assumed it looked the same as it did in his memories, like it did in his dreams.

It didn't, in fact it could have been a new apartment aside from the bright red door. The apartment had been remodeled, making it a two bedroom still somewhat spacious but diminishing the size of the living room a great deal. It was into the added new bedroom that Jordan was walking as the second yell occurred. This time it was not an unrecognizable noise but a clear crisp word, "Mama!"

Woody's jaw dropped as it all made sense. Even more complicated than you know. It was then that he took in the smaller details of the apartment. Things he would have overlooked if the screaming match hadn't been interrupted. There were sippy-cups and little plastic spoons drying in a dish rack next to the sink. Toy cars and board books were strewn over the couch and a pile of building blocks on the carpet. The laundry on the back of the couch, that she had been folding when he showed up, consisted of footed pajamas, little pants, and tiny tee-shirts. Woody suddenly felt the need to sit down. Initially he made toward the couch, though seeing a pile of small socks he opted for stool next the kitchen counter.


Jordan turned on the small lamp as she entered the room. The wailing stopped and a soft coo replaced it "Mama." She picked up the small child and sat down in the rocking chair. Garret had made the chair for her and it had quickly become her favorite place to sit. She leaned her head back as the small person in her lap began to squirm trying to find the most comfortable position. The last few days had become a blur but now they played through her head clearly.

Nigel had burst into her office in a frenzy Tuesday. He asked her if she wanted to go to lunch.

"I have a lot of paperwork to do, Nige," she had responded.

"You never do your paperwork, come on lets go. I'm hungry." Nigel seemed incredibly high-stung.

"I can go with you in like an hour," she said glancing at the clock.

"I think we should go now," he said quite adamantly.

At that moment Lily burst into the office. "Nigel, you were supposed to take her to lunch," she hissed under her breath.

"Lily, I am sitting right here, "Jordan had said now very suspicious. "What the hell is going on?"

"Nothing," the two said simultaneously.

"Alright," said Jordan standing up. "Spill right now, both of you."

"Woody's here," Nigel said quickly. Followed by an, "Ouch."

Lily had elbowed him in the ribs and hissed, "Nigel. So much for don't let Jordan know."

"Who said, don't let Jordan know?" Jordan asked slightly baffled.

"Dr. M," Nigel said shrugging. "Lily I told you this should be your job, you could have come up with some marital crisis you needed her advice on. She would have gone to lunch then."

Jordan couldn't help but feel relieved that it hadn't been Woody who didn't want her to know he was here. "Stop talking about me like I am not here," Jordan almost yelled. "And please someone tell me what is going on."

"Woody's here, Jordan," Lily said quietly.

"No, he is in California. He said he was never coming back. I was there he meant it."

"Apparently not," Nigel said with a shrug. Jordan just looked at him in disbelief.

"Nigel's right Jordan, he came back," Lily said looking at Jordan with concern. "He is back at the precinct and actually on his way here right about now."

"Okay Nige," Jordan said grabbing her coat. "I'm ready for lunch."

When they came back from lunch Jordan had sought out Lily for details.

"You missed him by like 30 seconds." He came up the other elevator right after you left."

Jordan hesitated but finally gave in and asked the question she had been wondering throughout lunch, "Lily? How did he look?"

Lily paused. Not sure what to say. "Like Woody." It seemed like a stupid answer but it was the only one she had. Lily couldn't bring herself to tell Jordan about the sad look in Woody's eyes as he had walked past Jordan's office. Or the way he turned toward the elevator whenever he heard it open.

Jordan had managed to avoid him for the rest of Tuesday. Then it had happened. Wednesday morning had been horrible. She had spilled grape juice on her shirt, silently cursing herself for not buying the clear kind, the babysitter had gotten sick and Lily, her backup, was working, she broke the stroller on their morning run and had torn another shirt while trying to fix it. By the time she had gotten everything worked out and made it to work, in clean clothing, she was 40 minutes late.

Once making it to the office, she found out she was late to a call. She hadn't even had time to think about the fact that the answering detective might be…Woody. She had said it aloud though under her breath as she saw in for the first time setting out of the SUV, loud enough though that he had heard her.

"Hi, Jo," he said it somewhat bashfully. More like the clumsy, stuttering detective she had met at the bank than the cynical, hurt man who had left Boston just over two years ago.

Jordan almost broke down and cried right there. Especially as he did the thing she least expected, with caution he approached her and gently hugged her. "Hi, Woods," she managed to get out as he released her from the hug, the tears building up behind her eyes. She made it through the examination of the body and back into the SUV alone before she finally let herself cry. When she did, Jordan hadn't known she had that much spare moisture in her body.

Jordan relaxed letting go of the memories and bringing herself back to the present. She sat up in the rocking chair. "So what's up baby? Did the yelling wake you up?"


Woody felt better sitting down. Jordan as a mother, he had thought about it, but only ever in an abstract way. Seeing the little clothes and toys had shocked him. Now having revived himself slightly he thought of how he had gotten here. The hug, the first time he saw her. It had been years. The hug was… well it was nice. He was happy to see her, to touch her, and not to have to talk about everything. But then, 36 hours later, here they were screaming at each other in her apartment and apparently waking up her baby.

Earlier that morning, he had come by the morgue. He needed to discuss the case with her. They still hadn't identified the victim much less had a clue about a suspect. It was a homicide that much had been obvious, but that was pretty much all that had been obvious. He had felt good about seeing her again, he was ready to forget the past and go back to being her friend. As a gesture he had brought her coffee. Assuming her tasted hadn't changed, he got her the same thing he would have before leaving Boston.

It all seemed fine at first she took the coffee, somewhat quietly and they had begun discussing her autopsy findings in her office. That was when everything fell apart. He had stood up and moved behind her to read the file over her shoulder. Jordan had flinched as his hand rested on the back of the chair and brushed her shoulder. Then with a jump she stood up.

"I can't do this Woody," she said certainly.

"Do what? Discuss the case? Do you want me to come back?" Woody asked a little confused.

"No not the case. Are you kidding me? I can't pretend like the past two years didn't happen. I can't just go back to the way things were before…before you left. I can't pretend we are in the same place, or even the same people."

"That would be nice," he said honestly. "To go back to the way things were pretend those years didn't happen."

"But they did." She stormed out of her office as she said it. He had no choice but to leave. As he walked down the hallway toward the elevator he noticed Garret Macy's eyes following him. He felt as if perhaps everyone at the morgue knew something he didn't.

Now he knew what that something was. Jordan wouldn't want to pretend those years hadn't happened. They had been important for her. She had become a mother. Her years weren't like the two Woody had experienced, empty and alone. Woody rubbed his temples, wondering if he should leave. But he had tried that before, in a more dramatic manner but still. He had left, run, and still here he was back in her apartment wishing she would come back out of the room into which she had vanished.

He had come to her apartment tonight to try and work things out. He had wanted to finish the discussion they had started in her office.


Jordan hoped with all her might that he would be gone when she reemerged in the living room. The fight had been bad she didn't really want to fight with him more. Let alone have to explain about the little boy now squirming on her lap. That had fought about how he had left. The fight on that night had sounded much like this one. She could hardly remember what it had been about. It had generally started with their mutual frustration at never being able to get it together enough to be in a relationship. She had yelled about Lu and him about J.D. She couldn't remember much else besides the end. Fine! I'm leaving and not coming back. His words had frightened her, instead of admitting that it had been easier to scream back. That's great. Don't call, forget you know my number. In fact forget you even know me! She had yelled at his retreating back, slamming the door, and locking it.

As the months went by she desperately wanted to call him, to apologize, to say she missed him. She never did. Her pride stopped her. Now she stood, gathering her strength alone with the little boy in her arms and walked to the door.

She had never known but he had wanted to call her too, his shame preventing him from ever picking up the phone. Then one day things fell apart in California. The woman he had been seeing got back together with her ex the same week his partner was shot and nearly killed on duty. He had had enough. He called the Boston PD and soon was on a plane back home. He had tried to tell him Jordan didn't play into the decision at all but he knew it was a lie. Now he just had to tell her.