The Dead of the Night
For people who watch the show...this is post-Jump Push Fall...about 2 months after...or however long it would take for Woody to recover and come back to work...
Woody couldn't sleep. To tell the truth, he was nervous. First day back and all. Back at work, back doing what he loved, and he was nervous. Like a school kid. He was on call at the moment, in fact. His boss had made it so that if he didn't get called in he didn't have to come into the precinct. Woody didn't mind that arrangement, but hoped that he was called. He then threw that thought out the window, for him to be called someone would have to die. And he didn't want that.
Not that it wasn't bound to happen, he thought to himself, opening the fridge and staring at the contents. Milk, a half-eaten sponge cake courtesy of Lily, a packet of mince he was trying to thaw out, a tub of garlic and a carton of eggs. He snorted. Gourmet ingredients.
He was saved trying to make something edible of all that by his cell ringing. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, and he automatically glanced at the clock. 4:07am. Perfect. Trying to remember who was on graveyard Tuesdays at the morgue, he flipped open his phone.
"Hoyt," he said, apprehensively, and listened. "Ok, I'm there."
He was just about to hang up when a thought struck him.
"Wait," he said quickly. "Who's the ME on call?"
His heart sunk when he heard the answer. He definatley did not need that.
"Not her," he said instantly, too quickly for him to withdraw it. Can I request someone else? Well wake him up. Severe conflict of interest happening. Thanks. No, don't say anything to him, just call him."
He felt guilt, but decided the best thing would be to sweep it under the rug and leave it there until he had the energy to deal with it.
He wondered when that would be.
------------
"Woody!" Bug's familiar voice called out, causing Woody to turn. They were in a large forest clearing, trees towering above them. The sun was just peeking over the hills to the east, casting its first feeble rays upon a battered, broken body lying purposefully on the forest floor. A track lay, looking very accidental, to her left, an abundance of trees to her right.
"Hey Bug!" Woody said brightly. "Look at me!" He spread his arms wide. Bug grinned indulgently.
"Lookin' good, Detective," he said, laughing. "I'm glad everything worked out."
"Oh definatley," Wody said, but Bug wasn't sure he meant it, and wondered at the strangeness of the reply. Then he remembered the question he was going to ask whichever Detective had shown up at the scene. Granted, he hadn't expected it to be Woody, but the question still remained. Maybe even intensified.
"Do you wanna tell me why I'm out of bed at this hour when Jordan's the ME on call?"
"Ah, no." Woody said. "Couldn't tell you if I wanted to. I'm not in charge of dispatch."
"Hm," Bug said, prepared to give his friend the benefit of the doubt. "They must have made a mistake."
"Must of," Woody agreed, and walked over to the body. "Deceased is Jessica Fallon," he told Bug. "Twenty-seven years old."
"Multiple stab wounds to the chest," Bug reported matter-of-factly. "Sustained significant injury to the right thigh, one stab wound, many scratches from what appears to be branches. Brusing around upper arms. TOD about 12-14 hours ago."
"Thanks, that helps," Woody said, jotting it down. "We got the boyfriend in custody. Blood on his shirt."
"Ok," Bug said. "We'll bag her and get her to the morgue huh?"
"Its good to be home," Woody grinned. Bug laughed.
-------------
Jordan wasn't having any trouble sleeping. That is, until her cellphone started ringing in that stupid annoyin ringtone Lily had sent her, and vibrating until it nearly fell off the table. Still half-asleep, she answered.
"Cavanaugh," she said, slowly, lethargically. "Uh huh. Rightio, I'm there. No..." she said, awake, frowning slightly. The girl had asked if she wanted to request a detective, somewhat sarcastically.
"They seem to think thats our job," the girl said, annoyed. Jordan sympathised with her somewhat distractedly and hung up, shaking her head. They were all nuts.
That conviction was strenghtned when she saw a dad man lying in an alleyway.
"Looks like an OD," a man said, by way of greeting. Jordan merely looked at him.
"And you are..." she fished for a name, hoping she hadn't met the man before.
"Excuse my manners," he held out his hand, and Jordan took it slowly, amused. "I'm Detective John Ryan, drug squad."
"Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh," she replied, mimicking his pompous tone, which she suspected he was putting on, maybe for her sake, maybe for his. She didn't know, but found herself liking him for some unexplainable reason. She bent down next to the victim.
"So why all the extremes just for an OD?" she reffered to all the uniforms milling around.
"Suspected drug trafficker."
"Oh," she said. "Doesn't look like the trafficking type."
"And what does that look like, Dr. Cavanaugh?" he asked, though not with any hint of condescension. It came out as merely a question.
"Point taken," she conceded, and proceeded to tackle the external examination.
"Positive on that OD," she confirmed, and the detective nodded, scribbling it down in the book that seemed to be standard issue among the folk of the Boston PD. Jordan was contemplating that, not even flinching at the memory of Woody flipping that little book, referring to it...she was changing. Being less like a little schoolgirl and more like the responsible adult she was supposed to be.
Yeah, sure, she scoffed to herself, certain she would stuff up somewhere along the line. She hadn't seen him yet. There was stilltime for her to break.
The started as her golved hand met blood.
"Hello," she said under her breath, and peeled away layers of the man's clothes. There was what could only be interpreted as a peace sign carved into the man's belly. She shot a horrified glance at the detective, who was visibly shaken.
"Peace out," he said, staring.
----------
"So," Bug said to Woody. They were standing in autopsy 2. "What happened with the boyfriend?"
"He did it," Woody said.
"Then what are we doing here?" Bug asked, irritated.
"We gotta prove it."
"Ah. The glitch," Bug said. "You could have been more specific. Want to elaborate?"
"He has a rock solid alibi."
"But the blood was hers."
"Yeah," Woody said. "She got cut on the hand, apparently."
"Confirmed," Bug said, looking at her hand. "About a day old?"
"Thats the story," Woody said. "But I know he did it."
"Uh-huh," Bug said, disbelieving.
"Woody, my man!" Nigel called from across the room upon seeing the familiar detective. "I heard you were back!"
"Nigel!" Woody said, holding up his hand. Nigel slapped it amiably.
"Great to see you back on your feet," he said, seriously. Woody whole-heartedly agreed. "But I am the bearer of bad news."
"Joy," Bug said. "What?"
"She was pregnant," he told them.
They were silent. "How far?" Woody asked.
"Barely 6 weeks," Nigel said. "She probably didn't even know."
"Maybe I should tell the boyfriend."
"Ah..." Bug said. "Not a good idea. Why dont you go find a...vending machine or something and I'll talk to him?"
"An vending machine?" Woody said, bewildered. "Where on earth did that come from?"
Bug shrugged and walked out. "I don't think it came from earth, mate," Nigel said, laughing.
"So how's the new slave-driver?" Woody said by way of conversation.
Nigel's face darkened. "We don't like to talk about it," he said coldly. "But since you asked, the guy's a bloody maniac! He's got us all with knives to our throat, all day! And once," Nigel leaned forward "I saw him in the supermarket."
Woody burst out laughing. "Poor Nigel," he said through chuckles. "Boy its great to be back."
"You wont think like that for long," Nigel said, darkly, gesturing toward the door, where the topic of their conversation was striding toward them. "Look busy!"
Woody almost laughed, but leant over the body and began to write something. Looking busy... he wrote, amused.
"Hello," the man said. Woody looked up, as if only just seeing him, surprised at the man's cold tone.
"Morning," he said, in the same perfunctory manner. Slokum's eyes narrowed, as if suspecting he was being mocked. He was a very paranoid man.
"I don't believe I know you. Since there are no visitors currently signed in, and you aren't wearing a sticker, I'll have to assume that you are one of my workers. Am I paying you enough, oh loyal worker of mine?"
Woody was at a loss for words. Was this little man serious?
Lily saved him, in actuality. She came rushing in, face flushed, breathing heavily, with a flouro yellow sticker in her hand. Her mouth opened as if she was going to say something, and abruptly closed when she spotted her boss.
"Dr. Slokum," she said, surprised. Woody looked from her, to the sticker in her hand, back to Slokum.
"Thanks for fetching that, Lily, I hope I didn't put you out."
She had obviously been coming to warn him, and even though he probably wouldn't have listened, he wanted to save her face anyway. "I'm so forgetful nowadays. You were saying, Dr. Slokum?"
His eyes were twitching, as if he was highly amused. He seemed to look down on Woody, even though the bigger man towered over him. He snorted softly, instructed Woody to sign the book, and turned on his heel. The morgue staff audibly breathed out a sigh of relief.
"Bug must have a radar, I swear! He always seems to miss the Boss-man. Its bloody not fair!" Nigel complained.
"Probably stole it from Slokum himself," Lily said, blackly, staring at the space Slokum had occupied, as if the very air was contaminated.
"Sorry for the welcome, Woody. Good to have you back."
She embraced him and he hugged her fiercley back.
"I don't envy you," he said with feeling, aiming it at both them.
"Hey don't think you're getting off lightly, Mister," Lily said, whacking him amiably with her file. "It pisses him off severely that you're here so start getting involved in a hell of a lot more murders!"
"I'm a homicide detective, I don't think that'll be too hard," he said, laughing. Lily thanked him, also grinning, and made her leave.
---------
"Hey Dr. Cavanaugh!" Ryan cheerfully greeted her as he walked into autopsy 1. Jordan glanced up.
"Morning again, Detective. Got anything?"
"You got an ID?"
"Sorry," she said. "Nothing at all."
"Poor guy was homeless then?"
"Looks that way," she said. Then: "It was a fish hook."
"Excuse me?" he spluttered. "A fish hook? That is brutal!"
"Yeah?" Jordan said, more than mildly amused. The detective shook his head.
"Thats Boston for you," he said.
"Thats life for you," she corrected, in defense of her home.
"Morning chickens," Nigel's voice greeted them cheerfully. "Tox results on the breakfast menu this morning."
"Its almost lunch time," Jordan complained.
"Brunch then," Nigel corrected himself, huffily. "This guy was high. Deadly dose of heroin. If he wasn't dead, he'd be, well, dead!"
Jordan took the sheet from him, scanned it, then tossed it aside.
"Nothing we don't already know," Ryan said, frustrated. "Ok I'll see what I can do from the precinct. I'll drop by later."
"Ok, seeya," Jordan waved a hand at him and he grinned, walking out.
"New friend's a little fickle," Nigel remarked, with the air of one commenting on the weather. Jordan ignored him.
Nigel walked out, and Jordan followed him. "What I don't get, is why someone would gut him with a fish hook, then use expesive heroin and drug him up."
Nigel turned, not perviously aware that she had followed him. Bug was digging into a body with a scalpel, and looked up, greeting Jordan as she walked in. Returning the pleasantry, she continued her train of thought.
"I mean, the guy's gonna die anyway. Why bother?"
"I don't know, Jordan. Maybe he did it himself?"
Jordan stared. "Gross," she said, awed. "How could you gut yourself?"
"Hey fellas!" a familiar voice met Jordan's ears and she turned, staring at the figure of someone she had definatley not expected to see. Woody stopped dead when he saw who Nigel was talking to.
"I didn't know you were back," Jordan said in a strained voice. Woody felt a nasty coil rise up inside him and he said
"Surprise!" with a fair amount of venom. He guessed what seeing him was doing to her, but relished in it, feeling some small twinge of anger, and felt the need for revenge. She visibly recoiled, and stared at him. Suddenly aware that both Nigel and Bug were giving her strange looks, she rushed out of the room.
Woody stepped forward and opened his mouth to say something relating to the case, but Nigel cut him off.
"What was that?" he said in a hard voice.
"What?" Woody said unconvincingly.
"Have you spoken to her at all since you got out of hospital?" Nigel asked. Bug was sensibly keeping out of it.
"Why should I?" he asked, evasively. "Its none of your business, anyway."
"Like hell it isn't," Nigel countered, angry all of a sudden. They had all seen how distracted she was, she barely had time for cases these days. Of course, that could have something to do with the fact that she worked tirelessly on Garret's investigation. Nigel hadn't proved her involvement yet, but it was only a matter of time.
He pushed past the Detective and followed his friend, who had barricaded herself in her office. He rapped on the door.
"I'm on the phone," came her voice. She grappled with the reciever and just got it to her ear before Nigel came in.
"I'll wait," he said stubbornly. Jordan sighed and replaced the reciever on the cradle.
"What is it, Nigel?" she asked, irritated.
"What was that?" he asked gently.
"Nothing. All it ever was, all it ever can be," she said, cryptically.
"Have you spoken to him at all?"
"He has made it quite clear that that isn't necessary," Jordan said, and would not give anything more away.
----------
Bug sat behind the glass in the interview room, shaking his head. He was sure Woody was clutching at the wrong straw.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that, bucko,” Woody was saying. “Much better.”
“Why would I kill my own sister?” he asked. What do you think I am?”
“Your fingerprint is on her blouse!”
“Yeah!” the man yelled. “Because I touched her! I saw her earlier that day!”
“Had a fight, did you?” Woody snarled at him. Bug frowned slightly. “Daddy’s little girl, huh?”
“I’m not a little kid, man! I don’t care about that stuff anymore!”
“Yeah,” Woody scoffed. “Sure. Even though Daddy was forking out $2000 bucks a week to her?”
“What would killing her change?” he asked. “She’d still be the favourite.”
“So it does bug you!” Woody shouted triumphantly.
“No!” the man yelled, frustrated. “Dude! I didn’t kill her!”
"You'd wanna hope so. We'll be getting a warrant to search your place."
"No, you wont. You've not got nearly enough to get a judge to sign a warrant. But I'll let you search. You wont find anything."
Woody stared, and slammed his fist down on the table, coming out and walking right by Bug.
"He didn't do it," Bug said, hurrying to catch up.
"Probably not," Woody conceded. "But we'll check him out anyway."
"Hey Woody," Bug said. "I called dispatch up. The girl said you specifically requested me."
Woody stopped and stared at him.
"Or rather," Bug said, reading the confirmation in the Detective's eyes. "You specifically requested anyone but Jordan. She was on call."
"I couldn't do it," he said, staring at Bug. "Not today."
"Why? What happened?" Bug asked.
"It doesn't matter any more," Woody said, dismissing him. Bug shook his head in frustration, and drove back to the morgue.
--------
"I’ve got a print!" Nigel rushed into Jordans office, startling her.
“What?” she asked, standing. “How?”
“I ran a scan over the entire body, clothes, personal effects. This print was in the most unlikely of places.”
“Where?” she asked, still shocked that he found a print where she couldn't.
Nigel grinned. “His buttocks.”
Jordan smiled. “Nice one, Nige,” she said, slapping him on the back. “Did you run it?”
Nigel looks offended. “No, I thought I’d sit there and look at it. What do you think I did?”
“Well?” Jordan says. “Whose is it?”
“One Damon Mandella,” he tells her. “I took the liberty of calling it in, I hope you don't mind."
He shrugged. “They’re bringing him in now.”
“Thanks Nige.” She headed for the door, then stopped. “Wanna come?”
Nigel frowned. “Why?”
“Do you want to, or not?”
“Sure, I’ll join you.” He shook his head, puzzled, and followed her out. The reason she had requested his company was simple - she watched Woody leave the morgue and figured he was at the precinct, and there was no way she was going to be caught out again. She was prepared to run into him, this time. Or so she thought.
They met Ryan at the precinct. He seemed excited. "Good work, guys, I think this is our guy!"
"I credit it to Nige entirely," Jordan said. Ryan nodded at him.
"Well lets go!" he said. Jordan and Nigel exchanged a look, here was an unexperienced cop to say the least. Oh well. They'd break him in, like they broke - Jordan stopped her train of thought immediatley.
“What was your print doing on our victims buttocks?” Ryan asked. Behind the glass, Nigel chuckled, and was quietened by a punch from Jordan, who was listening intently.
“I…” Mandella hesitated. “I don’t know who…”
“Here,” Ryan slapped a photo down on the table. Mandella looks at it.
“He knows him,” Nigel whispered.
“How do you know?”
“You can tell by his eyes. He blinked twice.”
“You know him?” came Ryan’s voice.
“Never seen him,” the man said, pushing the photo of the dead man away.
“But you’ve seen his bum cheeks, is that it?”
This time Jordan didn't reprimand Nigel for chuckling.
“I don’t like his technique as much as…” she stopped abruptly, rethinking her sentence. “…my fathers.”
“Your fathers?” Nigel asked quizzically, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Jordan said evasively, turning back to the window.
“You could go down for this,” Ryan said. “Your print is on…him!”
“Look, I didn’t kill nobody.”
“All we want is his name.”
“Now that, I can’t tell you,” he said.
“Can’t, or wont?”
“Can’t,” Mandella confirmed. “He was selling me coke, alright?”
“Not heroin?” Ryan asked, puzzled.
“I know what I was buying.”
“Right, so its customary to touch someones butt when buying drugs nowadays, is that right?”
The man shifted uncomfortably. “No,” he mumbles. “I want my lawyer.”
A thought struck Jordan.
“Why didn’t I think of that before?” she asked herself. To Nigel, she said: “Come on, we’re going.”
“Now?” Nigel whined, intent on watching the interview culminate.
She pulled insistently on his shirt and he aqquiesced.
--------
"I'm so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Fallon," Bug was saying. "Do you want to come straight through, or wait for your husband?"
"He's a little squeamish," she said calmly.
"I see," Bug said, trying to contain his surprise. "Well come through." He led her into the crypt, where he pulled back the sheet. Mrs. Fallon allowed a sound to escape her before covering her mouth with her hand.
"Thanks," she said, quietly, staring in apparent horror at the body of her daughter.
"We have a grief counsellor on hand if you need it," Bug said, thinking Lily may be able to crack this womans exterior and get to the heart of the matter regarding her husband.
"Thankyou," she said in acceptance, nodding her head slowly, expressing her fragility.
"Semen," Jordan said, confirming her suspicion. Nigel nodded, having caught on to her sudden relevation. "Run it, will you Nige?"
"Sure," he said, and took the slide from her. They waited impatiently while it scanned.
"Damon Mandella," Nigel said, and Jordan grinned.
"Dontcha love science?" she said, picking up the phone.
"Hey, Detective Ryan? Its Jordan Cavanaugh...yeah sorry about that. But we've got something. Yes, you'll be very interested..."
-------
"The mother claims not to have seen Jessica, right?" Bug asked of Woody as they sat, going over the case, in the conference room.
"Thats right," Woody confirms.
"Then why is her hair on Jessica?" Bug says, staring at a piece of paper.
"What?" Woody asked incredulously, grabbing at the paper. "Damn!"
He stood, of a mind to hunt her down, when Lily came in, flushed and staring around wildly.
"Bug!" she said. "That woman you sent me..."
"Lily, what is it?" Bug said, standing and making a move towards his friend, who he could see was upset.
"I have a severe confidentiality breach happening here..."
Bug was suddenly reminded of the probably one and only fight between Lily and Jordan - over this very issue. He knew Lily's mind on this subject.
"What is it?" he asked, concerned foremost for her safety. Lily's eyes flickered from Bug to Woody, and back to Bug. She deliberated, much to Woody's frustration. He was about to shoot a sharp word Lily's way when she suddenly blurted out:
"She told me she killed her."
Woody started, not expecting that.
"And you're telling us, this time?" Bug asked.
Lily shook her head, remembering to what he was reffering. "Its different. I think she's suicidal."
"Where is she?" Woody could contain himself no more.
"I think she went to the carpark. I told her to stay, but she left."
She was about to apologise but Woody had already left. Lily ran out after him, leaving Bug shaking his head, and cleaning up the files.
Woody ran. He should have seen this one. A squeamish husband? Ha. Probably ashamed to be with a murderer. Woody was in too much of a hurry to notice Lily struggling to keep up with him. He jogged down to the carpark, painfully aware of the pace he would formerly have been able to keep. It felt like a dream, his legs felt thick and heavy.
He saw the car, and a chill ran down his spine. He had the feeling this would not end well. Spotting the glint of metal, he came closer carefully, and saw the cold steel of the gun barrel pointed up through Mrs. Fallon's chin. She had tears coursing down her face. Woody saw this as a good sign, that she was still lucid enough to be crying.
"Put the gun down Mrs. Fallon," he said, pulling his own gun, and proceeding carefully.
"I killed her," she argued hoarsely.
"No reason to top yourself," he said in a perfunctory manner. Out of the corner of hi eye, he spotted Lily.
"Back inside," he said, knowing full well she wouldn't comply. She sidled up next to him, eyes fixed on Mrs. Fallon, who was muttering to herself.
"Top yourself?" she hissed. "You're kidding, right?"
Woody concededm if only because they didn't have all day to stand around arguing, and he knew Lily came from the same stubborn stock as Jordan...he stopped abruptly.
"Put it down!" he barked at the woman, making Lily jump. She shot him a look, frustration wasn't going to help in a situation like that.
"Mrs. Fallon," she said, in what she hoped was a kind-soundign voice. "You don't need to do this."
"My daughter..."
"Wouldn't want you to kill yourself."
"Damn it," the woman cursed. "I didn't mean to kill her. It was supposed to be him who walked through the door."
She spat the word 'him' with such venom, and Lily was sure she was talking about her husband.
"She died for him. Now I die for her."
"She wouldn't sanction this," Lily argued persistantly.
"She wouldn't sanction being murdered, either," Mrs. Fallon said, quietly, purposefully. There was a blast, and Lily nearly jumped out of her skin, her cry drowned out by the echo of the gunshot. Both Woody and Lily were close enough to the car for them to be splattered with the woman's blood. Lily stared at the corpse, horrified. Woody darted forward, checking the woman's vitals. Upon finding nothing, he cursed loudly, and pulled out his phone.
A hand dropped on Lily's shoulder, and she whipped around, groggily, still shocked from the woman's death.
"Garret!" she said, surprise at seeing her old boss pushing everything else aside. "What..."
"Came by to grab my coffee cup," he said, and Lily didn't question this feeble excuse, in light of the circumstances. Garret was aware that she would have seen through it, but he didn't much care.
"Actually, I came to see you guys, and hopefully piss Slokum off. Looks like I came just in time," he said, surveying the scene. Woody had hung up, and was staring at the body, look of resignation on his face.
"Great first day," Garret said, and put an arm around Lily, who turned into him gratefully.
Woody acknowledged the man with a dry twist of his lips and a casual wave.
"Maybe if I'd left it to Woody..." Lily said uncertainly.
"Hey," Garret said, cutting her off. "If you couldn't talk her out of it...no-one could. She had nothing to lose. You know those are the worst."
"How do you know so much about the case?" Lily asked, interest aroused.
"I came from the office, I was talking to Bug. He told me you were out here, so I thought I'd take a walk."
Lily nodded, and disentangled herself from Garret's welcome embrace. "I'll go clean up," she mumbled, and turned away before Garret saw her tears. Walking briskly away, she dashed the offending drops from her eyes, and quickened her pace.
"Heard lots of other juicy gossip in there, as well," Garret said to Woody. Woody raised an eyebrow, cautious.
"Yeah. I heard that Bug was pulled out of bed this morning, even though he wasn't on call."
"Oh?" Woody said, distracting himself with inspecting the gun the woman had.
"Yeah. Apparently Jordan was on call."
"Hm."
"Wanna tell me what's going on?"
"Not really," Woody said, Garret sighed, but was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt.
"Anyway, I'm glad you're back, even if I'm not around to...enjoy your prescence."
"Hey," Woody said. "You'll be back in no time. Its not like they're all not fighting for you."
"They have no details of the case," Garret said. "Its better that way."
"You think Jordan has no details?" Woody said, before he could stop himself. He was saved further explanation when a police car pulled up.
"I'll go get Bug," Garret offered. Woody nodded, and waved. Garret shook his head, and went back into the building.
--------
"Another case solved. We're building quite the stack of them, huh?" Nigel said cheerfully.
"Kind of a bittersweet ending though hey?"
"Buttersweet, I would have said," Nigel said, eyes twitching. Jordan grinned, fully appreciating Nigel's warped sense of humour.
"I can't believe he just confessed like that."
"He's a teacher," Nigel said, as if that explained everything. Jordan raised an eyebrow, and Nigel shrugged. Suddenly, she spotted a very familiar figure retreating into the break room.
"Garret!" she called out. He turned, and grinned as he spotted them.
"Evening," he said. "I hear you've had quite the run today."
"Mm, not really," she said. "I've had far more interesting cases."
"Easy confession, though," he said.
"I suppose," Jordan said. "In any case, it left Nigel and Ryan open for many tasteless bum jokes."
"I'm not even gonna ask," Garret said. He paused, and related the tale of Mrs. Fallon's suicide.
"Oh," Nigel said. "I completely forgot about Bug!"
Jordan laughed. "My corpses bum too much for you?"
"Ha ha," Nigel said dryly. "Is Lily ok?"
"Yeah, she'll be fine," Garret said.
"How could she just...shoot herself?" Jordan said, shaking her head.
"The human mind is terribly unfathomable. Alas, that is our calling," Nigel said, smiling slightly.
"Actually, its the body that concerns us," Garret reminded them.
"What are you doing here, anyway?" Nigel asked in mock irritation. Garret smiled and told them what he'd told Lily.
"I think you've missed him," Jordan said, reffering to Slokum. "He seems to wanna go home earlier and earlier each night...I think we're growing on him!" She smiled wickedly. Garret laughed heartily.
"Hey Bug," Jordan hailed him as he walked out of the toilets. "You on call tonight?"
"Yeah," he said.
"Well I'll swap you," she said. "Its only fair."
"Uh...ok," he said, nodding to Garret and Nigel, before leaving.
"Well I'm gonna call it a day, guys."
"Call it what you like, Jordan, the sun's down. Its technically night," Nigel told her helpfully.
Jordan grinned. "Night, guys," she said.
"Night," they said in unison.
Watching her retreating back, Nigel asked, "Since when does she opt for extra work?"
"You were lamenting about unfathomable minds? There's one classic example," Garret said.
"Hm," Nigel said in agreement, watching her turn the corner.
Jordan fumbled with her keys. The light above her car was busted, and she only had the light from two spaced down to go by. Naturally, when she heard a footstep behind her, she jumped a mile in the air.
When she saw who it was, she was possibly more disconcerted than she would have been, had it been someone unknown.
"Don't do that," she snapped iritably. "I thought you weren't talking to me, anyway?"
"What would give you that idea?" Woody replied. He had come to talk, make peace, with her and with himself. But the sight of her caused him to lose what little nerve he had.
"Gee, I don't know. Maybe the fact that you wouldn't answer my calls, requested another ME even though I wasn't on call, have been avoiding me all day. Quite the turn, though. Once upon a time you were requesting me, now you're requesting anyone but me." Jordan found herself suddenly angry. "Why wouldn't you talk to me?"
"I wasn't ready," Woody said truthfully.
"Crap," she almost spat. "I called the hospital every single day."
Woody make a noise in his throat that Jordan couldn't decipher.
"Why did you come here?"
"My car is over there," he said, pointing.
Jordan felt angry and stupid all at once. "Figures," she said. "Now if you will excuse me..."
"Sure," he said, equally as angry, and turned on his heel.
Summoning up all her courage, swallowing her pride, she called out in a small voice.
"Woody, wait."
He turned, staring. Jordan looked at him and held out a hand, for him to shake. "Truce?" she asked. He was still angry, and stared coldly at her hand.
"I don't think we need to go that far," he said, disregarding her hand, her plea.
Her face hardened. Woody practically watched as the wall went up around her. Regretting his coldness immediatley, he turned and practically ran for his car. Jordan grew even angrier. The coward couldn't even face her. A sudden sadness came over her and she sank down onto the ground, keys forgotten on the ground next to her. She sat like that for a long time, until another figure approached.
"Jordan?" the voice queried. Jordan looked up into the face of her boss, (she couldn't think of him in any other way, even though he wasn't her boss anymore,) her dependable, fatherly friend's face, and almost couldn't hold it together.
"I thought you went home," he said.
"Where is home? This is more home than home, anyway."
"I see. Why are you sitting on the ground? Are you hurt?"
She shook her head. "I got tired," she said, standing up. Garret saw the look on her face, the look someone gets when they are fighting to hold something together, or something in.
"Have you spoken to Woody yet?"
"He again made it clear that is not...necessary," she said, after much deliberation.
"Jordan..."
"Don't go there, Garret," she said, turning, attempting another jump into her car, since the last one had failed so miserably.
"Alright," he said amiably, putting his hands up. "Do you wanna grab a bite?"
Jordan turned, the instinctive 'No' forming on her tongue, but reconsidered.
"Why not?" she said, smiling, and shut the door of her car. Garret returned the smile, thinking of the many days she had grabbed a 'raincheck' instead. Something had happened here tonight, and it reeked of rejection, but he didn't want to push it. She would come to him when she was ready. And he would be there. He put his arm around her, which was no small comfort for Jordan, and led her away.
