Nina's been quietfor a while now. She's been mulling over several story ideas and there are a few more in the hopper...it's just life and all it's craziness gets in the way and for that she apologizes. This time Nina is embodied by jmkw, madmadambeth, and nccjfan.
And none of us have anything to do with Crossing Jordan.
Enjoy!
Chapter One
Stuck on the Hamster Wheel
She loved to watch him sleep. The little lines on his face softened, making him look more like the enthusiastic, naive cop she met in that bank so many years ago. How he's changed. Wounded ideals and living with the rest of the harsh realities a career of dealing with the worst elements a big city can offer had hardened him. He was leaner, the lines on his face more defined, and yet, instead of showing signs of the burn-out she assumed would end up eating him alive, Woody seemed to thrive on it. They both did. How they've both changed...for the better and for worse.
Her fingers stole through his short hair one last time before she quietly climbed out of his warm bed and disappeared into the night.
Woody woke up to the sound of his alarm clock beep and swung his arm across the bed to slap the snooze button. He didn't need to open his eyes to know she was gone. She always was. He knew the only body heat on that side of the bed was his own. He wrapped his arm around the empty pillow and buried his face in its softness finding it a piss-poor substitute.
Regret can come in so many different levels. On one hand, he wasn't apologetic for where they're relationship stood. His better judgment warned him he was courting disaster by giving in to temptation. Neither of them was emotionally stable enough at the moment to handle what was happening, but he -- even with all his noble convictions -- he couldn't stop himself. Just like those unforgettable little kisses in the desert, it was inevitable that it was just a matter of time before he and Jordan rediscovered what they found on a snowy night in the middle of nowhere. He was either going to have her again or he was going to die...and he had a lot to live for.
But on the other hand he felt like he was a hamster on a wheel, stuck spinning in place, never moving ahead. Jordan had made it perfectly clear she agreed with him. She wasn't ready for any stifling romantic entanglements. It wasn't in her. She was perfectly happy with this "arrangement" they had fallen into. As far as she was concerned, they had the best of both worlds. Woody just concerned it was just friends with benefits
He only had himself to blame. Weeks, months had passed since that late January morning they called they're emotional time-out. It was like as the ice that clogged the Charles River melted away with the longer days Spring, so did Woody's resolve to keep his distance.
As the craziness began to settle, Woody found himself thinking that finally...after years of growth and maturing, he and Jordan could move ahead of their shortcomings and finally, truly, be together.
It started one unseasonably sweltering hot evening in May. A young child was dead and her mother's boyfriend charged with involuntary manslaughter. The case was open and shut in the blink of a preverbal eye. Other than the obvious atrocities of the crime, as homicides go, it was barely open long enough to cause a blip on the radar. He and Jordan did their jobs. The case was tied up with an ironclad bow. Outside of a line or two in the local section of the newspaper the next morning and a 60 second six-o-clock, politically charged newscast forecasting an early and bloody season for the poorest inner city neighborhoods. From experience Woody knew the little girl would fade to just a foot note once her killer was sentenced.
Somehow it didn't feel over for either of them. He found her in the crypt that night, standing over the abused, little body apologizing for the final indignity of having to spend the night on a hard slab in a dark drawer. There in a room of cold bodies, he didn't stop her when she leaned into his warmth. She didn't stop him when his lips searched for hers to try and find something good and pure out of so much ugliness around them. She said she didn't think she could stand being alone that night. He knew he couldn't. Together they left. He took her back to his apartment and they did what came naturally to chase the shadows away.
When he woke up alone, Woody knew nothing had changed. He could still smell her, taste her...feel her moving against him...but they were still dancing around the idea of being a couple.
That was two months ago and that hamster wheel was still turning. The little voice in his head told him he was giving up. He found himself justifying the no-strings relationship he was in with her. The platonic side of their friendship was stronger then ever. Their symbiotic-like working relationship was recognized...maybe even envied for its efficiency and success. But romantically they both still seemed to be on a different page. He tried to talk to her. She admitted she loved him. Love wasn't the problem. She loved what they had together but she didn't think she could offer anymore...
When the alarm beeped again, Woody sat up and scrubbed the sleepiness from his face with the heels of his hands. He could spend the day analyzing and cross-analyzing his love-life. He had...far too many times. He tried to read into every moment but all he was sure of was that it boiled down to a knock on the door followed by a few passionate hours and if he was lucky, ended with a little note on his refrigerator asking him to call if he wanted to catch lunch later.
He climbed out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Out of habit he reached for his toothbrush and grabbed the wrong one. He had to smile as he put it back. Outside of a few stray hairs on his pillow case that simple toothbrush was the only sign Jordan was ever in his apartment. He picked up a bright purple toothbrush on his way home from work.
He cajoled and teased her about it. "Today a toothbrush, tomorrow maybe you'll stay. I liked waking up next to you in The Lucy Carver Inn, Jordan." She thanked him kindly and reminded him that if they woke up together they'd never make it to work on time.
"One step forward, two steps back..." he mumbled around his own toothbrush. He wasn't too discouraged. He wasn't going away. The music may be the same, but their dance was different.
His lips pulled in a smug grin. Woody considered himself a quick learner and it was his turn to lead.
Jordan tossed aside her Patriots blanket and rolled her neck stretching the kinks out of her neck. It wasn't that long ago her office sofa was a perfectly acceptable alternative place to catch a few hours sleep. After all, the morgue was her home away from home. She was used falling asleep to the lullaby of pops and hums of equipment running and the bangs and bumps that were never quite as easily explainable. Lately, those same noises grated at her nerves. It was the same at her apartment. Most nights she found herself sleeping on the sofa. Her bed was lonely...and far too often...too crowded.