Title: Catching the Wave

Part: Two of Four

Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen

Fandom: Eureka

Pairing: Jo/Zane

Rating: T with a huge dash of plus; final chapter will be full blown M. Rating will be upgraded at that time.

Summary: He was an addiction, Zane Donovan, one that no amount of time or space could cure. What started as a game quickly becomes a roller coaster of emotion. Her only choice was to hang on until the end.

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Eureka, and while that pains me on a daily basis, I still enjoy borrowing the characters and mutating their inner voices to suit my will. Please don't sue; my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.

A/N: Just a little fun with some sensory exploration - looking forward to hearing what you've got to say about this piece. There are four parts to this, each about a thousand words in length. If you'd like to see what happens next - shout it out, because if Jo and Zane are my drug, then reviews are the needle in my muse's arm. She's sensitive, people… just saying.

~~~E~~~

When he cornered her next, it was at her weakest moment in a secluded corner of Cafe Diem, indulging in ice cold ice cream that was drowning in steaming hot fudge. She faced the wall, comfortably situated on a stool, the world that was Eureka carrying on around her as she lost herself in the contrast of flavours dripping from her simple metal spoon. Her white tank top and low cut jeans, although flattering in the way they brought out her olive skin tone and dark eyes, did little to protect her from his burning gaze as he approached her silently from behind.

It was dangerous, perhaps a bit foolish, definitely underhanded the way he quietened his step, announcing his presence by sliding his hands down her arms, his lips immediately finding the softest, silkiest skin on her shoulder, his warm tongue consuming her as if she were more delectable than the sweet concoction cooling her throat.

In another time she would have stiffened, all senses on alert and perhaps fingers would have been broken, maybe a nose, but there definitely would have been blood. In this time, while though she did stiffen, the scent of him as he approached, the gentleness of his touch, the worship in his kiss, all of that combined forced her to lean back against him, sighing softly as his fingers travelled and teeth cut into flesh, leaving no doubt that she would wear his mark in the morning.

How his warm fingers found the hem of her shirt so easily, she wouldn't question, but as she leaned back against him, the softest sigh upon her lips, his hand splayed out across her stomach, steadying her against him at the same time as sending sweet shivers through her every nerve, she had no strength left to wage war. Her body betrayed her in the way it softened against him, heat rising from her skin instantly, her silent reaction more vocal than the guttural moans he'd grown used to night after night, before they'd fallen apart.

Fingers brushed the underside of her breasts, lips and tongue feasted on the flavour of her flesh, and when she couldn't take a second more she wound her own fingers into his hair, pulling his lips to hers, sealing the whimpering sounds that built in her throat against his mouth, only a soft groan escaping when he easily pulled her into his arms, stealing her chair, settling her into his lap without an ounce of humility.

"Come home with me," he whispered past her ear, just the heat of his breath enough to arch her body against his, determination warring with a desperate need that coiled low in her belly.

"Wait," she murmured back, her eyes closing as his fingers stiffened on her hips, leaving marks she knew would take days to erase. "I have to know there's more to us than this."

"Goddamn it, Jo, we are what we make ourselves." He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as his jaw clenched tightly. "And right now you're making me insane. Can't be held accountable for my actions."

"Is that a threat?" Her eyebrow raised, her hand lifting to his chest, her thumb playing over the pulse point in his throat as he swallowed heavily.

"Eh, I was thinking promise, but whatever turns your crank."

She sighed, leaning back, reality a cool stream of water over sensation scalded skin. Her expression shifted from tortured to neutral as she leaned away from him, her fingers stilling against his collar bone. There was no bite to her words when she spoke next, but a deep resignation that bled through on every syllable. "Go home, Zane. Alone."

Disappointment mingled with frustration in those endless blue eyes of his, and he shook his head, stroking the shell of her ear with a single, soft finger. "C'mon, JoJo, you're not gonna make me beg, are you?"

She could feel his eyes on her as she climbed to her feet, her coveted bowl of ice cream forgotten on the table as she turned her back to him and headed for the door, her jaw clenched tightly not with anger but with the agony of her own betrayal. He was perfect look at, perfect to feel, but sometimes when he opened his mouth...

What kind of future lay before them if every time he spoke she felt herself pulled back to a place in time that no longer existed? How could life be so cruel in it's effort to offer glimpses of the life that lay stretched out before her, over flowing with promise, while she still chased her own heart, unable to bury what lay in the past?

"Jo? Jo, c'mon!"

"See you tomorrow, Zane," she murmured softly, offering Vincent a sad smile as he looked between them in confusion, but not enough that he didn't place himself directly in Zane's path as he tried to follow Jo from the Cafe.

Frustration radiated from the younger man, delayed by a friend, but words weren't necessary as Zane turned and sat at the counter, taking the Vinspresso offered silently. He knew where he wanted to be, knew what he wanted to be doing, but when Jo put her mind to something, the entire town stood behind her and he'd not be seeing her again that night.

Hell, he didn't even know what he'd done wrong.

~~~TBC~~~

In the Next Part:

Nothing worked, nothing at all. No matter where he turned, no matter what he tried, his body rejected the thought of anything but Jo Lupo in his arms, writhing, whimpering, screaming his name into the darkness. His name on the lips of his girl.

Coming Soon!