DISCLAIMER: Jordan Cavanaugh, Lisa Fromer, et al belong to Tim Kring, Tailwind Productions and NBC Studios. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred. The story along with any/all original characters are the sole property of the author and cannot be used without expressed permission first.
THANKS: To Gatekeeper for going over the story and continuing to make sure I don't butcher Jordan's character.
FEEDBACK: Important as I've never written about "Crossing Jordan" before.
SERIES: This is the second story in the 'Scared Straight' series following Easy.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SPOILERS: For "Scared Straight."
COPYRIGHT: Nov. 21st-Nov. 24th, 2002.

Scared Straight: The Call
By A.M. Glass

"Doctor Cavanaugh... phone, line two."

"Thanks, I'll get it," I say as I walk over to the nearest telephone, knowing I really don't have time to answer it. "Hello, this is Doctor Cavanaugh, how can I help you."


I'm amazed how that simple phrase freezes me. All around me life moves forward while I'm caught in the moment.

"Dr. Cavanaugh?"

"Um, yeah, err... hello," I managed to stammer.

"Have I called at a bad time?"

I look around quickly, shaking my head, "No... not at all." Which could have been considered a tiny lie.

I had an autopsy to perform...

Reports to go over.

A million other things I wasn't about to tell her about.

"Are you sure? I don't want to interrupt."

She may not have meant to, but I sure wanted her to...

"You're not. What can I do for you?"

"I was calling to thank you..."

"What for?"

"For... Stephanie."

There was another pause in the conversation.

"Nothing to thank me for. It's my job," I cringe.

It's my job. God, how lame does that sound.

Couldn't I have thought of something better to say?

It had been two months since the Goodman case.

We hadn't spoken since the call I made to the station that night.

I had seen her though, in the newspapers, on television and in the courtroom, when I was called to give testimony.

I still listened to her program, so I knew it was her.

I knew her voice.

Sometimes I'd hear it in my dreams.

Which drove me crazy, 'cause I'd always wake up before anything happened.

"I guess I'll let you go then," Lisa said.

'Let me go?' I caught as I returned my attention to the phone call. "Doctor Fromer... Lisa," I added quickly.


Why am I nervous?

"Do you... would you like to getta drink – without the interruptions this time?" I ask, remembering the drink we almost had before Woody came and arrested her in connection with Stephanie's murder.

I wanted to bust him in the jaw.

I knew she hadn't killed Stephanie.

I had a gut feeling about it.

There was a pause as she thought it over.

"I'd like that."

"Great." I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. "How about we meet at my Dad's place? Say around eight? Do you need the address?"

"No, I don't need the address. I'll always remember where I was when I was arrested."

The bitterness in her voice made me wince. Damn – that was the last thing I'd wanted to remind her of.

"We can go someplace else..." I begin to offer.

"It's fine. I'll meet you there."

"Doctor Cavanaugh..." I hear in the background.

"I've got to go."

"Of course. I shouldn't have kept you so long. I'll see you tonight. Good-bye."

"Bye," I say before hanging up. Turning around I head back to the autopsy bay. "Whatta we got here?" I ask out loud as I pick-up the file with the body's information.

Placing the file aside, I grab the sheet and pull it down. Reaching overhead, I turn the microphone on and begin dictating.

"This is Doctor Jordan Cavanaugh..."

It's after eight when I finally get to my dad's place.

He waves at me from behind the bar. I know as soon as he's done, he'll come over for a visit.

I look around – my heart pounding in my chest- is she here?

I see her – I smile.

She's here.

I walk over to the table where she's sitting.

She raises her hand as she spots me.

Funny… I do the same thing.

I pull out the chair and sit down.

"Have you been waiting long?" I ask as I notice her wine glass. It doesn't look as if she's had a chance to drink any of it yet.

"No. I got here ten minutes ago. I hope you don't mind if I ordered?"

"No, not at all. I would have."

I've got to figure out why her smile makes me so–warm?

My dad drops by bringing my drink. He looks at us, and before he leaves I get this look and I know I should expect to spill my guts. He offers his apologies to Lisa that he can't stay and chat. But it's a busy night from the looks of things.

I turn my attention back to Doctor Fromer.

We talk, for a long time.

And I've got to admit...

I like it.

Talking to her.

She reached out and grabbed my hand when I said something that made her laugh.

Now, I know that her smile makes me feel warm.

Her touch...

That's a whole new ballgame.

I get this tingling sensation that starts at my hand and works its way down to the pit of my stomach.

I look down at our hands.

Everything has focused down to that.

The way her hand rests on mine, squeezing it gently.

I'm not sure how long I looked at our hands before I heard her calling my name.

"Doctor Cavanaugh..."

That had to stop.

"Jordan. I'd like it if you called me Jordan," I told her as I look in her eyes.

There it is again- that smile.

She nods.



"I have to go."

"Go? We just got here," I tell her.

She laughs.

"We been here two hours already."

I quickly look down at my watch.

She's right.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you," I said, which was the truth. I had no idea where the time had gone.

"I had a wonderful time. And if it wasn't for an appointment I have in the morning..."

"You don't have to explain," I tell her.

She looks at me- kinda puzzled like.

"I'm not explaining. I don't want you to think I wasn't enjoying myself. Because I was and I'd still be doing so except for my appointment," she says, squeezing my hand as if trying to get her point across.

Now normally, I'm not a touchy-feely type of person.

The only person that I'm close to is my father.

Yet, here she is, touchin', holdin' and squeezing my hand.


I don't mind.

Not a bit.

The fact is ...I kinda like it.

"Maybe we can do this again?" I ask as we both stand up.

That smile I keep noticing...

It's nothing compared to the one she's givin' me now. It lights up her whole face.

"I'd like that, Jordan."

I find that I enjoy the way she says my name.

"Where are you parked?"

"Just out front."

"Could I walk..."

"It's okay. I'll be fine," she tells me. She holds out her hand and I shake it.

Before I know it, she leans forward.

I can't tell if I've felt her lips on my cheek or not.


I do feel her breath on my ear, it's warm, moist and it makes me shiver.

"Thanks for a wonderful evening."

I swallow, "Anytime."

"Good-night Jordan."

"'Nite ...Lisa."

I watch as she leaves and right then and there I decide I'm glad I took the call.

The End

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