AN: Hello (ehoes)! Any J/Z shippers still out there? I'm baaaaack, well, sort of. My muse took a sabbatical, that b-ch. And although she isn't quite back yet, I had this fic I had started long before season 2 ended. It isn't finished yet, I thought maybe, if I posted, it would get my creative juices flowing. It is about 80% done, the ending might need some help. So, I hope you enjoy.

AN2: BTW, because I had started this about half way through season 2, Shaw hasn't made an appearance yet and Carter is still a detective.

AN3: At some point, the fic was beta'd by SassyJ and POIJane (Thanks girls)

Chapter 1: Distance

He didn't realize it. Not right away. It was three months before John noticed that it wasn't just work that was getting in the way. He should have noticed sooner, but there were so many numbers, and so little time; so many to help and never enough time.

By the fifth unanswered call that went straight to voicemail in one twenty four hour period, for the second twenty four hour period in a row, he finally noticed. What was going on with her? For the last three months he could count with one hand, the number of times they had seen each other. They had spoken often enough, yet in the last several days his calls had gone unanswered which was unusual.

Zoe was exhausted. For three days straight she had tried to meet his every need, his every demand. At times like these, she wondered what made her decide to take him on. He had finally fallen asleep in exhaustion giving her respite. For how long, she never knew. His hunger was often insatiable, every time she thought he had had enough, he still wanted more.

Sitting on her bed, in her pajamas, she looked at the clock. Only eight o'clock and she was already in bed. She looked at the body resting next to hers and couldn't help but smile. God, she must have been insane. Three days ago, she didn't think it would be this difficult. She didn't think it was a good idea to bring him home with her, but she really didn't have a choice. Looking at him once again, she rubbed his back as he stretched, still asleep next to her.

Sighing, she leaned back against the headboard and took a deep breath. "I can't avoid him much longer," she said softly to herself. Bending a knee, she laid her elbow on it and rested her forehead against her palm. Guilt flowed through her. Though she and John kept things about their respective work confidential, she still couldn't help but feel guilty about keeping this from him.

The ringing of her cell phone was a welcome distraction. She picked up the phone quickly because of the slumbering form beside her. "Zoe Morgan."

The caller was silent for a few moments before he spoke. "You taking my calls again?"

"Of course, I'm sorry, it's been a hectic few days," she said tiredly, giving the form next to her another guilty glance. She was however; glad to hear John's voice. "It's good to hear from you though."

"Watch it there Zoe. You almost sound like you missed me," he replied playfully.

She laughed half-heartedly, knowing his statement wasn't far from the truth. "In your dreams."

John frowned, noting that there was something different in her voice. "Zoe, is everything okay?"

"Are you not working tonight?" she asked in reply, knowing that best way to dodge a question was to ignore it and change the direction of the conversation.

"Yes, we took care of the situation in record time. Harold said he would call if something comes up," he replied. The unasked question hung in the air.

She took a deep breath risking another glance at the body next to her on the bed. "It's . . . I won't be good company tonight John."

"What's going on Zoe?" he asked curiously.

"I . . . nothing . . . just . . . busy . . . and . . . tired," she muttered, even to her own ears it sounded lame.

"We haven't seen each other in weeks."

"Careful there John, people might think you miss me," she said teasingly.

"I'm not afraid to admit it," he replied.

"I've been busy."

"Have you? That's odd because you haven't left your apartment in three days."

"And how would you know that?" she retorted. "Have you been watching me? Tracking me?"

Just as John was preparing his reply, the figure next to her choose that moment to make a sound and opened his eyes, blue eyes staring right at her. Zoe's hand went to cover the mouthpiece of the phone, but it was clearly too late.

"What was that?" he asked.

Zoe distractedly ran her fingers running over his hair and back trying to soothe him. "Television," she replied quickly, too quickly in John's opinion.

John's brow furrowed, deliberately trying to determine what was going on with Zoe. "You don't watch TV, Zoe," he stated matter of fact.

"Can you call me back?" she asked softly. He could still hear the muffled sounds in the background.

"Why don't I just come over . . ." John suggested.

"What? No . . . you can't, not tonight," she replied sounding panicked.

She'd never said he couldn't come over in the past. And now in the space of ten minutes he had been given two very lame excuses for him to not to come, and he was somewhat confused.

"Can you call me back in about an hour, John?" she asked, breaking the silence. "I want to talk to you, but I have to take care of something."

"I'll call you back," he replied finally. His gut told him that she was hiding something; something that he may not like. Damn it, he wasn't going to wait an hour to call. He wasn't going to call at all. He was just going to show up at her apartment and confront her.

Zoe clicked off her phone and tossed it on the nightstand, hands on her hips she glared at the figure next to her. "Are you trying to out us? John doesn't know about you and I prefer that he never does."