We all spend time around the holidays reflecting on what has transpired in the past year. This is what Woody and Jordan would be thinking if I could write an episode for Crossing Jordan. I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Crossing Jordan. If I did, Woody and Jordan would be together by now.

I do not own the rights to I'll Be home For Christmas, Blue Christmas or any other Elvis song.

Blue Christmas

Okay, I admit it wasn't the smartest thing to do, but in the effort to get into the Christmas spirit, I popped in my Elvis Christmas cd. Elvis has always gotten me in the mood for Christmas. I remember my mom playing the same songs when I was a child. If Elvis wasn't singing, the Christmas tree didn't go up.

After she died, Dad didn't bother with putting up a tree. My aunt told him that it wasn't fair to Cal and me to just quit having Christmas. So every year she would come over, put on the same Elvis songs and set up our Christmas tree. With the familiar sounds of mom's favorite songs in the air, it was almost as if she was there with us.

Anyway, Elvis didn't do the trick this year. I mean, I'll Be Home for Christmas really stings when you realize you no longer have a family to go home to. Yes, my aunt and uncle are still alive, but to be honest I haven't gone back for Christmas since I moved to Boston. I spent my first Christmas here and everyone since with my new family - Jordan, Max, and the gang at the morgue. But this year that won't be happening.

I guess happiness is too much to expect when you've had a banner year like I have. First Cal almost gets Bug and Jordan killed in the Albanian Mob case. That was when I realized I was all alone in the world. Of course, Jordan alluded to the fact that I still had her; boy was that short lived.

We were really getting along well, taking it slow. I didn't want to spook Jordan into running. I was actually tired of chasing her cross-country. However, with her birthday looming, I lost all sanity and jumped the gun when I gave her the ring. I know I was trying to push things before she was ready; I was just so tired of waiting. I wanted to get serious. Now the ring sits in the drawer of my nightstand next to a stack of pictures in which Jordan was the primary focus. They were banished there when she refused the ring. The only photo I left out was one of the whole gang; I justified that by saying it had all of my friends in the picture. It didn't hurt that it was an 8x10 and Jordan was in the center with my arm wrapped around her waist.

Her refusal of the ring did hurt but somewhere I still knew there was a chance. She hadn't started dating anyone else. So to get a rise out of her and see where we really stood, I told her I had a date. Before I could even see how she would react, we were thrust into the cop killer case that ended in me getting shot.

For the life of me, I don't know when the jackass entered my mind and told her to get out. I needed her so badly. I sat there after she left and cursed myself profusely. I knew what it took for her to tell me she loved me, and I knew Jordan didn't do pity. I was just so mad. They say when you are angry that you tend to lash out at the one you love the most, the one who is closest to you.

You know, I probably could have patched things up if that same jackass would not have decided it was best to hurt her again when I went after Riggs. I believe that was the last straw. I was so wrong for treating her that way! I just wish I could go to her and take back all of the horrible things I said and did; unfortunately, we must reap what we sow.

I guess I should be happy. We can actually work a case now without being at each other's throats the whole time. And she did finally kick J. D. to the curb. It's just that I had so many plans for this Christmas. I actually thought we would spend this Christmas Eve in each other's arms. I was hoping to fix her breakfast in bed and give her an engagement ring as a Christmas present.

But I guess it wasn't meant to be. Jordan, I will surely have a Blue Christmas without you.