A/N: I decided Zane needed to get hit over the head and that Fargo was just the guy to do it. I admit, Fargo's probably a little OOC (or even a lot OOC), but I have faith that Fargo could have pulled this off if he thought about it.

Also, I'm spending a lot more time on my original fiction these days; my version of Café Diem is a bistro with a psychic cook. I'd love it if you gave it a try (and many thanks to those who have) at fictionpress, at fictionpress . com /u/759976/ (Remove the spaces.)


"Hey." Zane looked up from the piece of wedding cake that he'd been crumbling to bits. Vincent's angel food cake was amazing, but he wasn't really in the mood for it. Fargo was standing in front of him, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Look, I've been thinking."

"Uh-oh. That might be dangerous," Zane drawled.

Fargo rolled his eyes, but continued, "I was a crappy friend before."

Zane raised his eyebrows questioningly. What was he talking about? "Before?"

"Dessert," Fargo replied with a dismissive wave.

Zane shook his head, and frowned. "Still not getting it."

"I was paying so much attention to my own –" Fargo paused, searching for the right word, "—menu plan—" he finally chose "—that I ignored what you were saying."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Zane poked at the cake again with his fork, and then set it down on the table.

"Jo? Leaving?" Fargo replied.

Zane's gaze, almost automatically, crossed Henry's garage to where Jo stood talking to the happily re-married couple. Something she said had Henry throwing back his head with laughter, his arm tightening around Grace's shoulders, while Grace leaned into him, chuckling herself. Zane sighed. Was he really hanging out eating cake that he had no interest in on the off-chance that Jo would want to come back to his place tonight? Yep, he was.

"Yeah?" he asked, not really interested.

"Look, you know a lot more about, um, dessert, than I do," Fargo started.

Uh, yeah, Zane thought the words but didn't say them, with a touch of scorn for the obviousness of the statement.

"But I know more about Jo than you do," Fargo continued. Zane's head swiveled back to him. The hell he did. Except, maybe…

"And I know a lot more about the old you and Jo together."

Okay, that was clearly true. Putting a hand under Fargo's elbow, Zane steered him outside the garage, to the privacy of the dark parking lot. "Talk," he ordered.

"Remember when I told you that you didn't deserve Jo?" Oh, yeah, Zane remembered that moment. He'd thought they were going to die, trapped in outer space, and yet he'd still wanted to know what Fargo was blathering about.

"I think your exact words were that I never deserved to be in her pants," Zane reminded Fargo.

"Yeah, well, you didn't. And – no offense – you still don't."

Zane sighed again. Great. Like he needed Fargo telling him he wasn't good enough for Jo. That was going to make an already crappy evening more fun. Not that the wedding hadn't been nice, it had been, but it was just a reminder of the fact that he wasn't someone who was ever going to figure out how to have that in his life. Not that he'd ever really wanted it before, but…

"Look," Fargo was continuing, "You want Jo to tell you to stay, but don't you get it? You're asking her to put herself out there, to take the risk, but she's already been there, done that. And you flubbed it the first time around."

"Wait, what?" What the hell did that mean?

"She's already been in a relationship with you for years – she already knows exactly how, um, non-commitment friendly you are. She didn't even use the L-word and you were running scared."

Zane thought about that. It sounded right – like him, anyway. But it had to be wrong. "She had my grandmother's engagement ring. I couldn't have been that scared."

"Right. After years. And they weren't exactly smooth sailing. You never appreciated her, not really."

"What does that mean?" Zane's response was instantly defensive. Damn straight he appreciated Lupo. She was gorgeous, smart, kickass-tough. And the thing she called a spark between them was the hottest flame he'd ever felt. Not appreciate her? Right, that was why he was still hanging around this piss-ant town.

"Did you look at what she did to Henry's garage?" Fargo asked patiently.

Of course he had. It was draped with white tulle, and tiny fairy lights. It's not like you could miss it. "Um, yeah."

"Don't you get what it means?"

Holy shit, Fargo was really lecturing him about women. Hell must have frozen over. Zane was tempted to blow him off, but… well, he wanted to know. "What does it mean, Fargo?" he asked again, trying not to let his annoyance show.

"It means she's a girl. You – neither one of you – ever really treated her like a girl."

A girl? Huh. "Which is… what?"

"Flowers? Fancy dinners? Tickets to the ballet? Surprises? Valentine's Day?"

Ugh. Valentine's Day. What a nightmare that was, Zane thought automatically. And then he thought a little more, about the smile he sometimes managed to surprise out of Jo, the one that softened her entire face and lit up her eyes, relaxed the constant tension in her posture. He'd never figured out a way to get that smile on purpose. Maybe a really killer Valentine's Day could do it.

"Meat and potatoes?" Zane said thoughtfully.

"More like appetizers? And, um, champagne?" Fargo answered.

Champagne. There was an idea. What was Lupo like a little loopy? Zane wondered, trying to ignore the automatic tightening in his groin at the thought of a lightly giddy Jo.

"Look, all I'm saying is that telling her you were thinking about leaving is going to make her less likely to want to take a chance on you, to trust you. And if you're waiting for her to ask you to stay, then you're never going to be together, because she's not going to put herself through that again. If you want her, you're going to have to be willing to work for her."

Okay, so Fargo had just given him advice about women. But it wasn't bad advice. Hadn't he been thinking something along those lines himself? That the strictly sexual relationship that he'd always been happy enough with in the past was maybe missing something when it came to Lupo?

Zane wasn't totally committed – he was definitely not going for any stupid no sex crap like Fargo was pulling – but this was worth thinking about.

Fargo was watching him in the overhead light from the side of the garage and whatever he saw in Zane's face seemed to satisfy him. "Start by telling her you're not leaving."

Zane looked back toward the garage. What would Lupo say if he told her that? Would she shrug and say 'whatever'? Or would she lick her lips in that way she had and look up at him with those amazing brown eyes and lean a little closer to him?

Only one way to find out.