Title: Catching the Wave
Part: Three 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 for the next and final chapter and as such will not appear in normal updates.
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~~~
He made it all the way until midnight.
First, he went for a run. When he'd lapped his neighbourhood twice and still couldn't shake himself free of Jo's scent wrapped around him, drowning him in thoughts that faltered his step, he had no choice but to turn and jog home.
Second, he worked out. Hell, he could bench press his own weight, and still, with his jaw locked, his arms tense, sweat dripping off him in warm rivulets, he couldn't shake the weight of Jo pressing down upon him and any progress he'd made disintegrated in the night.
Third, he tried out an old staple, letting cold spikes of water wash over his body, calming the heat that seemed to never quite quit burning under his skin. Still, he found himself weak and a single brush of his hand across his most sensitive flesh once again brought Jo to mind, her dark eyes dancing mischievously, her grin turned wicked as she taunted him unmercifully.
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.
It was ridiculous how possessive he'd become. Before Astreaus, before the matrix, he and Jo had this thing - more than friends, less than lovers, and it worked for them in a weirdly Lupo-Donovan kind of way. She drew the lines, she called the shots, he got laid on a regular basis by the smoking hot Chief of Global Dynamics Security, and that was enough. It had to be enough. Even if he couldn't get her off his mind, even if the idea of Astreaus without her was utterly ridiculous that it made his head spin, even if his chest ached and his lungs burned, even if his fingers dug half moons into the palms of his hand when she'd pressed her warm lips to his cheek then turned and walked away, possibly forever, it had to be enough.
He'd realized it wasn't enough the moment he'd seen her in Carter's arms, her dark eyes glowing for him, her fingers on his sasquatch chest, her lips against his, her heart in the hands of Howdy freaking Doody and there was nothing he could do but watch. How sharp a shot to the head it had been to finally understand that what Carter and Jo had built in his absence was exactly what he wanted, needed, from her but couldn't voice. Without her by his side, he had no grounding, no center of mass to generate a gravitational orbit. He was lost and angry and so full of regret for words never said that it took every ounce of restraint to not put his fist through a wall every single day he'd lived in that world.
She'd been his. She'd always been his. Somewhere down the line he'd convinced her to love him, but in the midst of self destructing, he'd not fully understood what she'd been saying until one day it had been too late. Now, when he knew without a single, solitary doubt that this was what he wanted, that he needed her to be his and no other's, she questioned him when she'd never done before. They'd spent so much time agreeing that what they had was just sex, she'd quite possibly convinced herself that there couldn't be anything more.
He made it until midnight before he stormed out of his house, made a mess of his neighbour's garden, climbed onto his bike and tore across town like the devil himself was chasing him down.
When SARAH let him in without so much as a peep, he crept quietly through the house to Jo's room, a path he'd long since memorized in the dark. He whispered a quiet thank you to the house before slipping inside the room and silently turned the lock on the door. The closet door was ajar, the light turned on and chasing away the shadows of the room, dark enough to allow sleep, illuminated just enough that his eyes immediately found Jo, curled in the center of her bed, hair spread out across her pillow as she slept. He chuckled as her foot twitched slightly, her teeth finding hold in her lower lip as she dreamed, the blanket's she'd fallen asleep with skewed across the mattress, leaving her without cover.
Perhaps he should've felt some form of guilt, watching as she shifted in her sleep, rolling to her back, one hand over her head, one hand resting on her stomach, but instead his eyes travelled the length of her very bare legs to the small expanse of silk that wrapped across her hips. He swallowed thickly, unable to help himself as his eyes travelled further, drinking in the tiny bit of fabric the tank top she wore consisted of, breathing in her sweet scent as she arched silently, dragging his gaze to her breasts hidden away from view by so very little. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as his eyes continued their journey, travelling across the swell of her breasts, to the delicate dip in her throat, drinking in the sweet peace she radiated in her sleep as his gaze settled on her face, her lips curved into a half smile, her eyes fluttering softly as she dreamed.
He lay the flowers he'd pulled from his neighbours garden on her bedside table, careful to not disturb her as he slipped into the bed, settling on his side facing her, only a single finger reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face with a touch so soft that it could've been nothing more than a whisper of wind on her skin. He thought at first to wake her with kisses, but as if her body instinctively knew his presence, she shifted towards him, her body pressing up against his side, settling against him, her head finding comfort against his shoulder. He couldn't help himself as he stretched his arm out beneath her, cocooning her against him as he breathed in deeply the scent that was only Jo. This was exactly where he needed to be. the one place in the world where he could instantly find the peace he so desperately craved.
~~~TBC~~~
In The Next Part:
"What are you doing here?" She didn't bother to pretend there was any modesty between them, there was no pulling of the covers to her chest, no furtive glances down his body to see that his boxer shorts were well in place, there was just an angry Jo, with sleep tossed hair and a hand on her hip on her knees at his side. He couldn't help the slow smile from gracing his features as he gazed up at her with clear blue eyes.
Coming Soon!