Disclaimer: They're all Tim Kring's creations. I don't own any of them…not a one…doesn't mean I don't borrow them liberally, though.

Chapter One

Have You Seen Jordan?

Funny how you never expect you're going to be a victim….that was almost the last coherent thought that ran through Jordan's mind as his hand hit her squarely on the jaw…her head spinning under the impact. Struggling to keep conscious, she tried to focus on her attacker's face…what she could see of it.

"You're all alike," he whispered to her…before she felt a searing pain across her chest and she gasped. "Damn you…hold still…"

Funny…how you never think it's going to happen to you…and it felt as if her head exploded with pain, and then everything went dark. Oh, God… please…please let somebody find me…please.

"Look, I know working together isn't going to be easy," Jordan said, walking with Woody down the hall of the Boston PD, "but we're both adults right?"

"When I said I didn't want to see you again, I meant it," Woody answered, keeping his voice low, as he maneuvered himself down the crowded hall with his crutches. "I realize that we will have cases together, Jordan, but nothing has changed. Not with me. Personally, it's time we both move on. I know we're at different places in our lives…I've still got months of rehab and two more surgeries before I get the full use of my legs back. And you….you…I know you….you have something going on, I'm sure."

Jordan didn't know how to tell him that the only thing she had preoccupied herself with during the four months he had been absent from the Boston police department was his physical therapy and counting the days until he was back at work and in her life. "Not really…" she said, in a voice just as low. "Nothing but you…I meant what I told you in the hospital, Woody. I haven't changed my mind, either."

Woody arched a brow at her. "What about? That you don't want me to leave and you love me. Oh yes…I remember. I also still believe that there was more pity than truth in your words, Jordan." He had arrived at his office. "Thanks for the help upstairs. Don't make a habit of waiting for me every morning. I can do it myself. Good-bye, Jordan." And with that he closed the door firmly in her face.

Jordan sighed and looked at the closed door. It had been four months since she whispered in his ear that she loved him…and begged him not to leave her. And she was no closer to making him believe it now than she was then. She had stayed at the hospital continuously…despite his temper and efforts to keep her away. She made sure he was taken care of, attended physical therapy, even learning how to help him with the painful exercises that were re-teaching his nerves how to respond to stimuli.

But she may as well been talking to the door in front of her nose. Glancing down at her watch, she checked the time. Damn…Slokum's going to have my ass if I'm late. Pushing Woody to the back of her mind, she nearly ran back to her office, beating the clock by five minutes. For the next several hours, she focused on Garret's case…and how to get him back into the morgue.

That was how her Monday had begun…a normal beginning to a normal work week for her…avoiding Slokum…searching for answers in Garret's case…talking with Nigel…missing Woody. When her day had ended at five, she had walked back over to Woody's office to see if he needed any help getting home…and to find out if maybe he'd like to go out for Mexican and a beer. Santana said he left for the day about three…he was tiring quicker than he thought he would.She drove past his apartment. His lights were on, so he had made it home safely… but she somehow couldn't gather the courage to go in and check on him. Preoccupied with thoughts of Woody, she had walked through the parking garage of her own apartment, never hearing her attacker coming from behind her.

Never in the darkest recesses of her mind did she ever imagine her day that had begun so normally would end so violently.

"Have you seen, Jordan?" Woody asked Nigel.

"Woodrow…good to see you up and ambulatory again…"

"Yeah…right…whatever. Have you seen Jordan? I'm following up on this case for Berman and she did the autopsy. I need to talk to her."

"Jordan hasn't come in yet…which is kind of odd."

"Nigel…I hate to break it to you, but Jordan is nearly always late."

"Not since Slokum begun his reign of terror," Nigel whispered conspiratorially. "We all live in fear of losing our jobs. Jordan has been the model of the responsible employee since Garret left. I'm not sure if she's trying to be the shining example to the rest of us or just trying to hang on to her job long enough to prove Garret's innocence."

Woody nodded. Jordan had mentioned several times during his hospital stay how important it was that she be on time…and what a general pain in the ass Slokum was. "So…any idea where Jordan is?" he asked again. "Is she on a field call?"

"No… Detective Hite, I believe?" Slokum asked, coming up from behind Nigel. Woody noticed the Brit's eyes close in disbelief. "And where's your visitor's pass?"

"Hoyt. The name is Detective Hoyt, Dr. Slokum. I didn't think I needed a visitor's pass since I'm here on official business from DA Walcott."

"Everyone that is not an employee of the morgue needs a pass…"

"Have you seen Jordan?" Woody asked, cutting Slokum off. He was beginning to understand why the morgue staff harbored such an intense dislike for the new interm-chief ME.

"Dr. Cavanaugh…no, I haven't seen her, but she called me early this morning. She said she wasn't feeling well, and asked if it would be okay if she came in after lunch. Normally, I have a hard time believing sick calls, but this time I did. She sounded awful. I told her to take the rest of the day if she needed it…but she said she would be in between one and two, Detective," Slokum said, responding to Woody. "And don't you have work to do?" he asked Nigel, turning to him. Nigel gave Woody a mournful look and went back into trace.

"Can I leave her a message to call me when she comes in?" Woody asked Slokum.

"I'll tell Dr. Cavanaugh you're looking for her. Good day, Detective," Slokum answered, dismissing Woody.

So…Jordan was sick. That was a first. Woody pondered the possibilities while making his way back to his office. She had never been sick the entire time he had known her. Maybe all the stress of Garret and Slokum was catching up with her. Of course, he acknowledged he had put some stress on her, too. Woody ran a hand through his hair. It wasn't easy living with unrequited love. He had known that for a fact for the last four years.