Title: “Scared Straight: If You Can’t Go... ”
Author: A.M. Glass
Copyright: Dec. 14th-Dec. 18th, 2002
Revised: Jan. 24th, 2003
Spoilers: For “Scared Straight, “Don’t Look Back, ” and “Prisoner Exchange”.
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.
Pairing: Jordan Cavanaugh and Dr. Lisa Fromer.
Series Notes: This is the seventh story in the series, the first being “Easy”, followed by “The Call”, “All Yours”, “A Good Reason”, “The Invitation” and “Destination”.
Author Notes: This story starts off as a Jordan P.O.V. piece, then towards the middle it switches to become Lisa’s P.O.V. I hope I’ve been able to pull it off.
Thanks: To Myra and Bri for going over the story and continuing to make sure I don’t butcher Jordan’s character.
Feedback: Would be nice, as I’d like to know if I should continue with this series.
I watched her step inside and I quickly closed the door. Okay, so far so good, step one is complete. She’s here and she hasn’t left ... yet. Taking a deep breath I walk over to her side and I wonder what she’s thinking. Then I wonder what to do next.
“Do you like it?” Good question, excellent. Except, she’s not saying anything, not a good sign, not at all. “Lise?” I say as I reach out to her... only to find myself engulfed in a hug. Huh... I musta done good. I smile. And ... after she breaks the kiss she’s planted on me, I know I’ve done well.
“Why?” Lisa asked as she looked around the living room.
I shrugged, “Well, I figured if we couldn’t go to Palm Springs...”
“You’d bring Palm Springs to us?”
Nodding, I took her hand in mine and led her to the small picnic table I’d set up earlier. It was next to impossible to find light bulbs that would, hopefully, simulate a desert sunset. I almost had to scrap that part of my plan. I wasn’t sure if it was going to be good enough.
And it had to be for Lisa.
I helped Lisa take her jacket off as the heaters I’d placed around the room had driven up the temperature nicely. "I... I wanted to apologize for what happened the last time we were together,” I said as I poured out a glass of the wine I know she enjoys. I watched as she sipped the drink. I keep wondering if I had salvaged this ... relationship? we have.
“You hurt me Jordan,” she said simply, placing the glass down.
“I know. And I’m very sorry,” I say, as I move my chair closer to hers. “I was scared, I admit that, but Lise,” I take her hand in mine. “I’d really love another chance.” I focus on our hands, too afraid of what I might see in her face.
“I don’t know.”
I shook my head, I was lost and I didn’t know what else to do. I honestly didn’t believe that I should try something sexual to prove my point. I kinda thought if I did Lise might think that I was doing it solely to prove that I’m ready. And we both deserved more, so much more than that.
“Are you hungry?” I asked suddenly. “I’ve got dinner... please?” I could see she was thinking about it.
“Great,” I breathe a sigh of relief. “I’ll be right back.” And before I knew what I was doing, before I could stop myself, I leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. “Umm... sorry.”
She didn’t say a word she only smiled. I’d do anything to keep that smile on her face.
* * * * * *
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this nervous before. I wasn’t expecting Jordan’s call this afternoon.
I had honestly thought that it was over... that she wouldn’t be able to move forward... that we couldn’t move forward. We had gone so far, only to come to a screeching stop.
It had all seemed perfect. I can’t help but shiver when I think back.
Of how her kisses set my body aflame, and when I felt her hand on my breast...
I think that I’d gasped out loud, I couldn't help it, her hand felt so nice, I’d hoped she wouldn’t stop. And I did what felt like the most natural thing to do, I moved my hand towards her breast. I wanted to know what she felt like. I wanted to know what she sounded like when she gasped... if she did.
I thought she was ready. How wrong could I be?
As soon as my hand moved, she froze. I felt her body tense for a split second. Gone were the thoughts of seeing her body beneath mine, the thoughts of tasting her skin, watching her as she let down her guard, of seeing the real Jordan Cavanaugh.
I couldn’t think about that, I did the only thing I could do at that moment. I asked her to leave.
I didn’t want to hear her explanations.
I just wanted... needed her.
But I couldn’t be with her, not then, the moment she froze, it was as if she had physically pushed me away. Pushed what had taken so long to build. She’d tossed it aside ...me aside.
I couldn’t figure it out.
We’d had so many late night talks, opening up to each other in ways I doubt Jordan has ever done with anyone else. And I thought, truly believed with all my heart that we had bridged the gap that had kept us in limbo over these many months.
But I was wrong, now, she’s gone and done this and I don’t know what to think anymore. I know what I feel, but I’m not sure what Jordan feels.
My friends, the ones who know about Jordan, think I’m crazy to have stayed with her this long, that this was the inevitable conclusion. To Jordan this was a simple experiment, that I was an experiment. I should know better than to go out with a straight girl that I would only end up with a broken heart.
Despite all that, I’m here.
My friends don’t know Jordan the way I do, or think I do. They don’t see the dedication to her job. How much she wants to solve every case that comes her way. Just how much it hurt her when Lily said the things she did. Yes, Jordan asked her if Beth Pomeranz had confessed, but she never went to the D.A.’s office. How could Lily possibly think that Jordan would ever do something like that?
I could see the tears, but damn it, she was too proud to shed them, so I did for her.
They don’t know how much she cares for her father, of how much of her father’s pain she’s taken upon herself.
Jordan could never do to me what Stephanie did, or rather was planning to do. Yes, Jordan's behavior hurt me, deeply, but it wasn't done with intent. And that’s the difference.
My friends, they don’t know Jordan.
As I look around the room, gazing upon her version of Palm Springs, the picnic table, the pool chairs, towels, suntan lotion, posters of Palm Springs all around...
I laugh to myself as I realized something, I don’t know her as well as I thought. And, it would be a shame not to see all she has to offer if given the chance.
Leaving me really with only one thing to do.
* * * * * *
“Is there something wrong?” I asked as Lisa stepped into my small kitchen.
“Nothing, absolutely nothing is wrong,” she replied as she moved into my space.
“Have I ever told you how much I lo... like when you say my name that way?”
I looked down briefly as a flush of heat hits my face. “Uh...no. I...I don’t think you have.”
“I want to thank you,” she said as she ran her fingers up my bare arm.
“No,” I replied shaking her head, “I should be thanking you,” I tell her as I lean against the counter.
“Do you need any help?” she asked.
I thought about saying: “No, I’ve got it covered,” when it hit me. Maybe she isn’t talking about dinner.
I look her straight in the eye and I hope I answer correctly.
|Section 8||A. M. Glass||Crossing Jordan||Main Index|