Disclaimer: I don't own Crossing Jordan or any of the characters…and make no money off of them. I do enjoy playing with some of Tim Kring's creations….and wish he'd get Jordan and Woody together before long. I'm getting tired of waiting…

Chapter One

He was seeing someone else.

She had thought it might be so…she hadn't been positive, but after this afternoon, she knew for sure.

He was seeing another woman.

Jordan sighed and tucked a curl behind her ear. She guessed she should have expected it. She should have even seen it coming. But she had been in denial. Now the truth was staring her plainly in the face.

And she was tall, blonde, thin, blue-eyed, and had at least a 38C bra cup.

In short, she was a walking, talking Barbie doll.

Everything I'm not, Jordan thought, as she watched Woody and this….woman…tell each other good-bye at his office one afternoon at lunch time. Jordan was there to pick up some files. She had no idea she would witness Woody involved in what might best be called a prelude to some soft-core porn. Discreetly, she cleared her throat to get his attention and to avoid any possible embarrassment on her part. "Umm…, I'm here to get the Thurgood file, Detective," Jordan said. "Rene' Walcott wants to close that case this afternoon," she gently reminded him.

"Oh. Jordan. Sure. It's in my office," he replied, giving "Barbie" one more kiss and telling her good-bye.

"Gee, Woody," Jordan said, watching the other woman glide down the hall in what could best be called a seductive stroll, "Who's the lucky girl?"

"Kim. Kimberly Dawn Stewart," he replied, with a smile on his face and a far away look in his eyes.

"Known her long?"

"Only a couple of months. Eddie Winslow introduced us. We've been seeing each other ever since." He handed Jordan the file.

Jordan made a mental note to somehow get even with Eddie. "Oh. Thanks," she said, finally looking down at the file in her hands. "I'll get this back to you as soon as I'm done."

"No hurry. Take your time," he said, his ringing cell phone now taking his attention…"Oh, Kim…you left your earrings in my apartment?" he began, turning his attention away from Jordan and to the other woman on the phone.

Jordan left his office and quietly shut the door. She had heard more than she wanted to and knew more than she was comfortable with.

How on earth could I possibly even begin to compete with that…with her? Jordan wondered as she returned to her office to study over Woody's files and complete her report for Rene' Walcott. She's beautiful, blonde, and….and… Jordan looked down at her small bust line in comparison, … built. She suddenly felt less than adequate…less than feminine….less than complete.

A feeling that was new to her.

She had spent most of her professional life secure in her abilities. She was a damn good ME. Her track record proved that. She worked hard. She cared. She got results when most people would have thrown up their hands in defeat.

Personally, in the men department, she hadn't had a problem, either. If she set her sights on a man, she could usually end up with him wherever she wanted him. At a pool table. Across from her at her dinner table.

In her bed.

It was commitment that she had a problem with. If a man wanted to get too close to her personally, she promptly sent him packing.

But Woody had been different. The first two years he had been in Boston, he had patiently followed her around like a puppy dog, just waiting for her to drop him a few crumbs from the table of her personal life. But then he had changed, somehow. Grown a hard emotional shell around him. Jordan would find herself reaching out to him, only to have her hands emotionally slapped away.

Then came Devan. And all his grief that had followed the airplane crash.

Jordan had tried to reconnect with him several months after the young ME's death, but it had been a fiasco. Maybe it had been too soon after Devan's death. Maybe neither were certain about their feelings yet. But they had tried. She had invited him up to her apartment one night after work. They had ordered in Chinese. Tried to define the strange mating/dating dance they had been waltzing around for three years. So this time, when Woody reached for her to kiss her good-night, she didn't back away. She let him.

So he kissed her. Thoroughly. Made her head spin and her body soften against his. He had pulled away and looked at her, finding her eyes dark, her lips soft, and her body willing. Without any further discussion, he had picked her up and carried her to her bedroom, placing her on the bed and joining her there…unbuttoning her blouse, letting her take off his shirt…

And then his phone had rung. It was the precinct and he had to get back to work.

Regretfully, he had put his shirt back on and buttoned her blouse back up. He had gently traced her lips with a finger and whispered, "I wish I could say I'll be back in a little while…but I don't know how late I'll be…anyway…this is probably for the best. We'd both probably have a dozen regrets in the morning." He had bent down, softly kissed her, and shut the door behind him….leaving her cold, alone, and aching for him more than ever.

On one hand, maybe he had been right. Maybe it was for the best they didn't sleep together that night. For it had been less than two weeks afterwards that Jordan began to suspect he had another woman waiting in the wings. He didn't talk to her as much, and seemed preoccupied.

On the other hand, maybe he had been wrong. The only regret she had was that they didn't spend the night together. She loved him and had wanted to tell him so…show him. Instead, her suspicions had been proven right. He was seeing someone else. Kim -- a walking, talking, living, breathing, Barbie doll who was warming his bed at night.

Leaving Jordan alone and out in the cold.