DISCLAIMER: The Characters of 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: My beta reader, Myra. If it weren't for her, this story would have only been four pages long, that's right, only four pages. She suggested that when I wrote the next part that I might want to consider adding it to this one and to be honest I didn't want to. I thought I'd leave it the way it was and be done with it and I was and I got no closer to writing the next part. If it wasn't for an e-mail I'd received from legaspiweaver I'm not sure when I would have written anything. Thanks again go to Ralst for hosting the story.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is a part of the "Scared Straight" series and follows "One to Go".
SPOILERS: For second season episodes "Scared Straight" and "The Perfect Storm."
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Scared Straight: We Need To Talk
By A.M. Glass
"Where is she?"
"Excuse me?" Woody answered as he looked up from his notes.
"Jordan, where is she?"
Woody looked at the blonde coming toward him across the emergency room's waiting area. A vague feeling of déjà vu came over him. He felt as if he should recognize the woman standing, her foot tapping, in front of him. His eye opened wide, "Dr. Fromer?" he hesitantly asked.
"You have a good memory, Detective Hoyt. It must come in handy. Now, can – will you please tell me where Jordan is? They don't have a clue up front."
"She's over there," he gestured behind him. As soon as she took a step, he moved in front of her – blocking her way. "I'm sorry, but you can't go back." Woody could tell she was sizing him up for some reason and it set him on edge.
"Why?" she practically demanded of him as she took another step.
"I'm not sure why you're here..." he began as he efficiently tucked his pen and notebook in his pocket before holding his hand out.
"She called me."
"Who? A patient?"
He could hear her sigh.
"No – Detective Hoyt," she stressed. "Jordan called me."
"Really?" he answered. Surprised by this tidbit of information.
"Yes, we're..." she paused as if looking for the right words. "…Friends and she asked me to come over. Now – can I see her?"
"Yeah. She's in Surgical 3 – but Dr. Fromer," he said as she started walking away.
"Yes," she replied without looking back.
"You'll probably need to leave when her boyfriend shows up – if he does." He watched as she took a breath and turned, hitting him with a smug smile.
"Haven't you heard?"
"Heard what?" he asked, stepping closer.
"They broke up, so I don't expect we'll be seeing her boyfriend anytime soon, or at all." She walked away leaving him stunned.
"Why didn't she tell me?" he asked himself as he continued to watch Dr. Fromer's progress up the hall until she entered Surgical 3. "And when did they become friends?"
As far as he knew, Jordan hadn't seen Lisa Fromer since the Goodman Case, nearly a year ago. He had admitted to himself that he'd wondered about Jordan and her feelings during the case; how this woman – Lisa Fromer – had brought out Jordan's protective streak.
He knew from experience that only came out when she felt something – what that something was puzzled him. He'd brought it up during the investigation and Jordan bristled – calling him on his own behavior.
Oh, she wasn't the only person to question his sentiments. He'd heard an earful from the Captain, who'd heard it from the Commissioner and so on up the food chain 'til it hit the Mayor.
Apparently the reference he'd made while questioning Dr. Fromer – "Your People" – had, to his embarrassment, been videotaped.
There were fellow members in blue who'd privately agreed with him – which made him sick to his stomach. He had never considered himself homophobic. Was it his fault how he'd been raised: black was black and white was white?
Sure, during his tenure on the force he'd seen many things that challenged that notion, but he didn't want this to taint Jordan.
He knew Max didn't approve of the situation. He had spoken to him after the arrest and wasn't surprised to hear him say that he didn't want to hear about it and as far as he was concerned, his little girl liked men, end of story.
Woody decided he'd give Max a call later. He'd try to get the scoop on not only Jordan's breakup, but also her relationship – no – her friendship with Dr. Lisa.
If anyone would know, surely it had to be Max Cavanaugh.
Perhaps now that this mysterious boyfriend was out of the picture, maybe they could try again. Maybe now was the time to start going to the office more often.
He smiled.
Although it had been nearly a year, he could still remember the kisses they shared. His brow furrowed in concentration. Was she seeing this guy back then? She had told him she had reasons they shouldn't get together.
Was it because of him?
This boyfriend he'd never met?
He couldn't get any information out of the guys at the M.E.'s office.
It was funny though – when he was there last week, Nigel looked at him with a smile on his face and looked as if he were about to say something when Bug pulled him aside.
From the hand gestures they both made and the looks thrown his way he knew something was up.
Maybe Nigel was going to tell him?
But then, why would Bug interfere?
Unless – he knew Jordan wanted to tell him and he was simply keeping Nigel from spilling the beans.
Before he had a chance to continue his train of thought he noticed Dr. Fromer leaving Surgical 3. From what he could observe, she seemed calmer, less frazzled.
"So, the patient's going to make a full recovery?" he joked.
She nodded. "She'll still need to have the stitches removed," she answered. "Tell me, Detective Hoyt – Jordan tells me it was an accident, but she wouldn't tell me how it happened. I'm sure to protect whoever did this. Perhaps you can fill me in?"
His face felt hot. "Someone slipped on a piece of ice on the floor. This person slipped and fell into Jordan, who hit her head on a cabinet."
"Does this person have a name?"
"I can't give out that information. Now, if you'll excuse me – I need to speak with Jordan before she leaves."
"Of course. Would you let her know I'll be waiting?"
"Sure," he replied. He'd have to have a talk with Jordan. Let her know she might want to re-think her friendship with Dr. Fromer. He left her in the waiting room and walked down the hall. "Are you okay?" he asked as he entered the room.
"Yeah, why?" Jordan replied.
"I don't know. You seem flushed."
"Oh – nah, I'm good. You didn't happen to see Lisa did you?" She asked looking around him and into the hall.
"She said she'd be waiting..." he gestured behind him as his voice trailed off.
"Woody, what's wrong?"
He stepped up closer and reached out. "That's what I'd like to know."
"What are you talking about?"
"This isn't your shade of lipstick Jordan – and even if it was, I don't see how you could kiss yourself," he said as he took a piece of tissue paper and wiped the lipstick off her cheek.
"Lisa, she was worried about me," she said as she grabbed the tissue paper from him.
"So she kissed you?"
"What's the big deal?" Jordan asked as she hopped off the gurney.
"Jordan," Woody sighed. "I'm not sure how long you two have been friends – but, I'd be careful if I were you." He looked down momentarily knowing what he was about to say could damage his chances with her. "The way she acted out there, practically demanding to see you – the kiss," he shook his head. "I think she likes you more than you think. More than just friends."
He didn't want to hurt Jordan – as he looked at her he couldn't read her expression. He couldn't tell what she was thinking.
"Woody – we need to talk."
He may not have known what Jordan was thinking, but he had a feeling about what she wanted to talk to him about when his cell phone rang. "I'm sorry," he shrugged as he answered.
Jordan watched as Woody spoke quickly into the phone.
"Okay, thanks," Woody said as he ended the call. He slipped his phone back into his coat. "Jordan, I've got to go," he said as he started to walk out. "Oh, sorry about the..." he pointed to his forehead.
"It was an accident. Don't worry about it."
"Maybe..." he paused momentarily, "Perhaps Dr. Fromer can give you a lift back to the office?" he asked still a bit uneasy about the woman.
Jordan smiled briefly, "I don't think there'll be a problem."
I didn't think so, he said to himself. "I really got to run. Talk to you later," he said as he finally left.
"Yeah, later," Jordan whispered. Sighing heavily, she grabbed her jacket and walked out. She smiled when she spotted Lisa at the nurse's station. "So, am I good to go?"
"You'll need to come back to have the stitches removed..." Lisa said returning Jordan's smile when she heard her voice.
"I could always have Nigel or Bug take them out."
"Dr. Cavanaugh, I just need you to sign here and here," a nurse said as she gestured at the discharge papers.
"Sure thing."
"Dr. Stone did go over everything with you, didn't he?"
"Tylenol for pain, ice for the swelling and if I have any problems I'm to come back."
The nurse nodded in agreement. "Okay, here you are."
"Thanks."
Lisa and Jordan walked down the hall towards the exit.
"I didn't see the car, did you leave it at the scene?" Lisa asked.
"No, Nigel said he'd take it back to the office."
"Do you have to go back?"
"Macy told me to take the rest of the day off."
"Good," Lisa nodded in agreement. "So, I saw Detective Hoyt take off in a hurry."
"He got a call," Jordan said as she followed Lisa. "Most likely about a case."
They walked to the car and Jordan waited as Lisa unlocked it before sliding into the passenger seat.
When Lisa closed the driver's side door, she turned and looked at her lover. She hesitatingly reached out and touched Jordan's forehead. "I know you've probably been asked this before and it may sound redundant, but does it hurt?"
"Not right now, I'm sure once the lidocaine wears off I'll feel it." Jordan took Lisa's hand in hers and kissed it. "I'm fine – really," she stressed as she gazed into the worried face of her lover.
Jordan knew that ever since "The Incident" as she privately called the time she was trapped at the office during the storm, Lisa had a deep-seated yearning – a need to know she was all right.
Incidents like this had a way of shaking Lisa.
Jordan could remember with devastating clarity how Lisa reacted when she finally got home that night.
It was at that moment when Lisa clung to her as if her life depended on it that Jordan knew she loved Lisa more than she'd ever loved anyone, not that she wasn't aware of her feelings before.
She knew that she had fallen for the statuesque psychologist long ago, yet in the absolute quiet of Lisa's condo, she had seen what the uncertainty had caused.
Not only to Lisa, but to her father as well when he hugged her good-bye and told her he loved her.
She thought back to the letters she'd written in desperation. In case she didn't make it out alive.
They haunted her... the words she had written, the words she felt she might not be able to say.
She had told her father she loved him very much and that she was proud to be his daughter. To never forget her, for wherever she was, she would always be with him. She had asked him to take care of Lisa for her, to be the rock Jordan knew him to be.
So many things she wanted to make sure he knew. So he wouldn't second-guess himself or the way he raised her.
For Lisa...
It wasn't as easy for her to write. It had taken her some time in coming. It wasn't as if she didn't know what to say, Jordan simply felt awful putting Lisa though this.
Considering the hope of Lisa finally being with someone again after Stephanie, Jordan never wanted to put Lisa in the position of having to be strong in the face of her own agony.
More so, she finally understood what Lisa had meant when she asked her if she'd ever been in love before after identifying Stephanie's body. "... Someone you find out of dumb luck makes your life everything you never thought it would be?"
Now looking into Lisa's eyes – unshed tears making them bright – Jordan leaned forward and kissed her.
Their lips brushed against each other – gently – unhurriedly.
After a few minutes, Jordan pulled away slowly. "Are you okay?" she whispered.
Lisa smiled, "I'm fine."
"I love you," Jordan said.
"I know you do. I do, too," Lisa replied, her voice stronger. Taking a deep breath, Lisa felt herself calming down. Seeing Jordan on the gurney, with gauze on her forehead frightened her.
She had spoken to her therapist, one she realized she needed after she found herself practically clinging to Jordan whenever she was around. It was perfectly normal to feel the way she did – but after a month, she decided to talk to someone about it.
Gradually she got better, there were no more night terrors that would leave her sitting upright in bed, her heart pounding beneath her breast, her skin clammy with perspiration and her eyes darting back and forth wondering what had happened.
There were times when she found herself in Jordan's embrace, the brunette holding on, whispering to her it was all right, she was there and that there was nothing to be afraid of.
Lisa wasn't sure if Jordan had any idea how much she needed to feel her touch – her voice – at those times.
Jordan was her anchor – much more than Stephanie ever had been.
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Lisa put the key in the ignition and started her car. "So, where to?" she asked as she pulled out of the hospital parking.
"How about your place?" Jordan answered.
They had yet to find a place of their own, but they continued to pour over the real estate ads over the weekends. They were determined to find something soon. They both hated having to come home to an empty loft/condo.
"My place it is," Lisa said as she pulled into traffic hoping to make it home before rush hour.
Neither of them saw Woody staring at the car as they left.
The End