RATING WARNING: I think most people would generally consider this chapter to be M-rated.


Everything Is Illuminated

In the end, Jo and Zane found themselves opting out of dinner at Café Diem that evening. Their entrance through the café door together, shortly after having left Henry's, culminated in an eerie silence as most of the eyes in the café swiveled to the door and silverware was temporarily forgotten, suspended between mouths and plates. The silence thickened the air until they felt as if it was pressing on them from every side. Jo squirmed imperceptibly under the attention, shifting from one foot to the other with unease as they made their orders. Zane caught the slight motion and ran a quelling hand from the curve of her waist to her hip, giving her a sideway glance and causing her to still in response. She leaned into his embrace almost imperceptibly, and he turned his attention back to the uncomfortable looking chef.

"To-go, Vincent, if you don't mind." Zane said calmly as they made their orders, even as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise with the cumulative force of the stares at his back.

"No – ah – no problem, Zane." Vincent stammered, his eyes darting with curiosity to Jo then back to Zane's carefully impassive face. Zane quirked an eyebrow, a hint of intimidation in his stare, and Vincent scurried away into the kitchen. Jo elbowed him, none too gentle.

"If you could at least try not to be an ass?" she muttered in an undertone. Zane's eyes glinted with amusement as he looked down at her.

"And here I thought you liked my ass, Jo-Jo." He responded smugly. Jo narrowed her eyes.

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't tase that ass, Zane," she growled under her breath. Zane's grin widened and he pulled her closer to his side with the arm wrapped around her waist. Any kind of retribution was forestalled when Vincent reappeared with their food, looking nervous. His eyes flickered to the nosy crowd behind them.

"Bacon cheeseburger with blue cheese, and a greek salad." He said, holding up the bag as an offering. Zane snagged it casually and Jo offered Vincent a sympathetic smile.

"Thank you, Vincent." She said, and he smiled back uncertainly.

"Have a pleasant evening, you two," he said. Jo nodded at him in acknowledgment, and pushed through the door of the café to step into the warm night, Zane's arm still wrapped loosely around her waist. Before the door had even swung closed all the way, Zane and Jo could hear the eruption of noise and gossip behind them. She closed her eyes briefly, sighing, and when she opened them again she was startled to find Zane's face only inches away, a smile playing on across his lips. He transferred the bag of take out to the hand at her waist and raised his newly freed hand to cup her face lightly, stroking away a stray wisp of hair and stepping in closer to press a soft kiss against her lips. Instinctively she pressed against him and deepened the kiss for a moment, until he pulled back just far enough to speak.

"How about you take the food and I'll meet you back at your place?" He said. Feeling slightly dazed, it took her a moment to process his words. He pressed the bag of food into her hands and stepped back, reluctance crossing his face momentarily as the distance increased between him and the soothing warmth she presented. He glanced at her once more as if reconsidering his decision, but inevitably swung a leg onto the motorcycle and turned the key in the ignition. He pulled out of the parking lot smoothly and sped into the night, Jo watching his form fade into the distance before turning to her own car.

Starting at the passenger side door of the front seats, Jo leaned into her car and wedged the to-go containers carefully at the foot of the passenger seat. She rounded the front of the car, opening the door to the driver's seat and sliding in. Jo gripped the steering wheel absently and sat for a moment, reflecting, her lips curved into a thoughtful smile. She glanced up at the crowded café – things seemed to be settling down inside, but it was still bustling with energy. Everything looked typical for the strange little town that she'd made her home.

Jo's smile went from thoughtful to hopeful as she turned the key in the ignition, her mind shifting to the night – and the person – awaiting her at home. Her small smile widening and spreading across her face, she pulled out of the parking space and accelerated into the night.


By the time Jo pulled into her driveway, Zane was lounging on her front step, his motorcycle nowhere in sight. His expression was equal parts amused and indignant as she pulled the bag of take out from the front seat and climbed out of the car. She'd only made it a few steps before he spoke up.

"Voice-activated lock?" he said, arms crossed casually where he sat on her front step. "Really?" Jo arched an eyebrow, mildly exasperated.

"You know, on the off-chance somebody thought it might be a good idea to pick the lock." Zane's smile was both smug and unrepentant as he hopped off the stoop and strolled towards her, his hands sliding into the side pockets of his jeans.

"Gotta keep you on your toes, Jo-Jo." He said, rocking back on his heels with the force of his own enthusiasm. He looked speculatively at the door. "I'll need better tools next time." He said thoughtfully, cocking his head to the side. Jo shook her head slightly in resignation. It wouldn't surprise her in the least if she found him already lounging on her couch the next time she came home.

She stopped in front of the door and leaned in toward the microphone, muttering her password in an undertone, biting her lip and shooting a glance at Zane, hoping he hadn't heard it. There was a difference, after all, between admitting to the nature of their relationship and putting her sentimentality on display. She wasn't entirely sure that even the Zane from the original timeline would have been comfortable with playing a part in her choice of passwords. His face was unreadable, though, and if he'd heard what she'd said, it didn't show. She smiled uncomfortably at him, her insides squirming for a moment with a bout of nerves and a touch of nausea, and pushed her front door open, stepping into her dark living room.

Zane followed her inside as she flicked the switch on the wall and light flooded the room. Jo closed the door behind them and carried the bag of food to the kitchen counter while Zane perched himself on the arm of the closest sofa, quietly watching as Jo bustled around the kitchen and noting her hesitation as she gathered plates and silverware from a kitchen which was still unfamiliar to her. She shut the last cabinet and rounded the edge of the kitchen counter, surprising him by crossing the room to take a seat near him on the sofa. Twisting to look over her shoulder, she quirked an expectant eyebrow at him.

"Burger's getting cold, Zane," Jo prompted, and he slid from the arm of the sofa onto the cushion next to her, giving her a sidelong glance and tearing into his burger with gusto, realizing with some surprise how hungry he really was. She must have thrown him off more than he'd imagined, for him to forget about food so entirely. He glanced at her and frowned when he saw the way she was half-heartedly pushing her salad around on the plate. Zane opened his mouth, intending to speak up, but stopped himself quickly, casting about his mind for a better path to his goal until the perfect solution struck him. Casually he reached over and plucked a loose olive from her salad, popping it into his mouth with alacrity.

Jo's fork paused on the way up to her mouth, and he was sure she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He could almost see the exact moment she decided to ignore him and instead finished bringing the forkful of salad to her mouth. Lips twitching with suppressed amusement, Zane waited a minute to pluck the next olive out of the salad. Jo froze. Turning her head slowly, she looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. He grinned, tossed his head back and snapped the olive into the air, catching it neatly in his mouth.

"Really?" she asked, exasperated. He snaked his arm between them once more, reaching for a third olive, but this time she was ready for him. With a quick flick of her wrist she stabbed him lightly with the tines of the fork, just hard enough for him to jerk his hand away. He looked at her reproachfully but she just smiled in response, a challenge lighting up her eyes. He held up his burger.

"Trade you," he offered. She rolled her eyes but relinquished the olive and accepted a sizeable portion of his burger in return.

"You realize this is way more burger than a few olives are worth." She pointed out. He shrugged, feigning disinterest. Looking bemused, she bit into the burger and promptly rolled her eyes back in pleasure, making a moan of satisfaction which Zane found all too reminiscent of sounds he'd heard her make only the night before, in that very room. Heat promptly flooded his body as the memories flickered to life in his mind's eye. He dropped the olive.

Cursing, Zane dropped to his knees between the table and the sofa, jarring Jo's arm and refocusing her attention in the process. He peered at the floor, quickly deducing that the olive had rolled beneath the sofa. Groaning with irritation, he lowered his torso to the floor and peered beneath the sofa, then stuffed his arm into the gap between the sofa and the floor, grasping blindly. Finally, when he began to think he couldn't stand to get any more uncomfortable than he already was, he managed to wrap his fingers around it. Heaving a dramatic sigh, he pulled out his arm and flopped onto his back, half beneath the coffee table, gazing absently at the ceiling until Jo leaned into his line of vision.

"Too bad I already finished that piece of burger, hmm?" She teased. He looked up and at her hazel eyes dancing with her amusement. So worth it.

"And I'm the smug one?" Zane said aloud, and tossed the olive at her forehead. His aim was unerring, the olive striking just above the bridge of her nose and falling with a soft plop! into the salad resting in her lap. Her eyebrows shot up and she fixed him with an ominous gaze. If he'd been the praying type, Zane reflected, now would probably be the moment to start. Just how far from the sofa was the taser, he wondered with a flicker of alarm. Jo reached forward and placed the salad carefully on the coffee table, restraint written in her every motion, and smoothly pushed the table away, revealing him where he'd been half-hidden beneath the table. There was an alarmingly devious glint in her eyes.

Zane's eyes widened as she slid off the sofa cushion farthest from him, balancing on her knees and straddling his lower legs. Then her hands landed on either side of his waist and she was inching up the length of his body on all fours, looking all kinds of dangerous and sexy and he definitely forgot to breathe for a moment. Her characteristic sleek ponytail was dangling from the space between her neck and her shoulder as she paused, her face level with his.

"Smug, am I?" Jo all but purred. He swallowed deeply, trying to regain the composure she'd so effortlessly shattered with the wave of desire she'd sent crashing over him. He managed to don his customary smirk, but it was strained with effort.

"Seems to me you are looking pretty self-satisfied, Jo-Jo." Zane dared to provoke her, but he heard his voice crack ever so subtly in the middle and suspected – or perhaps knew – that he was already sunk. Jo's smile widened, and he surmised that she knew the same. She leaned in, pressing the full length of her body against him and whispering in his ear, making his whole body twitch with desire. The words, however, made him want to laugh.

"Take it back." Zane grinned up at her unrepentantly, his body veritably on fire with the need to pull her still closer.

"Never." Jo's eyes sparkled with suppressed amusement. She tilted her head, a teasing smile still gracing her lips and the surety that she held the trump card written in her expression.

"Well, if you're sure…" she said, voice presaging trouble ahead.

"Jo-Jo, have you ever known me to second-guess myself?" Zane said, slightly distracted as he attempted subtly to sidle his arms around her and pull her close before she could think to stop him. That was the moment he realized that, sometime in the last minute or so, she'd managed to pin his arms unnoticed. With her lying on top of him, he was effectively immobilized. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but Jo, who had been waiting for that moment of realization, grinned. Zane narrowed his eyes in response.

"Sneaky, Jo-Jo," he said, grudgingly admiring her cunning. "But you must realize I'm enjoying myself, down here." Straining upwards, he rubbed himself against her to prove his point. Jo, however, didn't look the least bit phased. In fact, he recognized with a sinking feeling, she looked…amused. Stifling her grin, Jo leaned forward, sliding her soft cheek past the edge of his face, which was rough with stubble, and began delicately nibbling at the incredibly sensitive skin of his ear. He bucked reflexively beneath her, but pinned down as she had him, he didn't make it far. Jo's mouth began trailing down his neck, making him groan with frustration and a dawning horror as he realized he was completely at her mercy, and he already wanted her so badly it was becoming physically painful. In all the time since he'd met the woman – spent enduring an endless cycle of imprisonment and cold showers – Zane was altogether certain she'd never managed to torment him quite so thoroughly.

Her attentions to his neck transferred themselves into a full-fledged tactical assault on his collarbone, and he twisted and squirmed ineffectually beneath her, trying desperately to get some kind of release – or better yet, a grip on her – but she held fast. Finally she pulled away, her arms still pinning him in place, and smiled, slow and provocative.

"So," Jo said, in a voice so low it verged on husky, "Ready to take that back now?" Zane, though very nearly panting with frustration at this point, was defiant to the last.

"Not a chance, Jo-Jo," he breathed. She leaned forward, only inches from his face – Zane was, for a moment, certain she was giving in, and if not, well, perhaps he could persuade her with a kiss – and then, with incredible delicacy, she traced his lips with the tip of her tongue. Zane's eyes nearly rolled back into his head, but he refused to let the moment pass – lunging forward with the intention of finally capturing her lips, he fell barely an inch short. Her face was both tantalizingly close and impossibly distant.

"I think not." Jo murmured, lips twitching with amusement. He flopped back, his entire body strained with frustration and desire. His sigh turned into a chuckle touched with a hint of hysteria.

"I give, Josefina. You are not in the least bit smug and you are, of course, a goddess amongst women." He conceded dramatically, squirming both physically and mentally beneath her. Jo grinned.

"Better," she said, "But next time, I suggest you don't forget it." Eyes glinting with satisfaction, she gave him a chaste peck on the lips and climbed off him in a flash. Before Zane's somewhat lust-addled mind could process the turn of events, she was gathering plates off the coffee table and heading for the kitchen area. A moment passed: Zane lay on his back, gaping, like a fish out of water, while Jo cheerfully packed up their leftovers.

"Really?" he demanded, once his mind had stopped skipping like a broken record, and jumped up from the floor. Jo looked – there was no other word for it – smug.

"No idea what you're talking about." She said innocently. He growled his annoyance beneath his breath and stalked across the room. Jo paused for a moment while she tidied the remnants of their dinner, her head lowered as she watched Zane from beneath her lashes. She chose to ignore him, no outward signs indicating her thoughts aside from a quirk to the corner of her mouth. By the time he'd entered the tiled area of the kitchen, his smirk was beginning to make a comeback; when he hoisted her over his shoulder and strode to the nearby bedroom, the smirk was finally in full force.

"Zane," Jo protested sharply, but he just laughed.

"Jo-Jo, we are long past the point in the evening when that tone is going to work on me." He said, his tone of voice sending frissons of desire through her body. She sighed dramatically and pressed her elbows into his back, bracing her head on her hands. Knowing Zane couldn't see her face, Jo allowed herself a private smile of contentment. Her propped head bobbed and swayed with each step he took, but Zane's legs were long and his stride wide, and it wasn't long at all before they'd reached her bedroom. In one quick motion, Zane swept her back over his shoulder and onto the bed, the seemingly abruptness of the motion belied by the gentle way his hands cradled the curve of her back and neck.

This time he was the one doing the straddling, and Zane took a moment to appreciate the sudden role reversal. The roguish smile on his face revealed his train of thought, but – while vengeance would be sweet indeed – his patience and restraint were wearing thin. He had a good memory (when it wasn't being subjugated by temporal anomalies) and revenge could certainly wait – he had more pressing interests at the moment, the first of which involved ridding himself of the barriers between his skin and hers.

Zane leaned forward, capturing Jo's lips with all the intensity and hunger that had built inside him as a consequence of her little joke. Jo matched him, stroke for stroke, pouring her overwhelming need for him into the kiss. He began to unbutton deftly the little black buttons of her power suit with a quick flick of his wrist, his other hand rising to pull her silky black hair out of its ponytail. Jo broke the kiss momentarily, nearly breathless.

"It ought to be illegal… how good you are at that," she gasped. Zane gave her a sly grin.

"All for you, of course, Jo-Jo." He responded, his voice teasing. Jo gave him an exasperated look.

"I meant the buttons," she said dryly, shrugging off the now loose jacket. Zane wasted no time starting in on her bright blue blouse, pausing only to grin at her suggestively:

"What can I say; I'm good with my hands." He said, inadvertently dodging the underlying question. As he flicked open a series of buttons with obvious ease, Jo's forehead was creased in thought, a knot forming in her throat as she thought of the succession of women he'd no doubt practiced those same skills on while her evil twin was busy pursuing him with a taser instead of kisses. But then her blouse was laid open and he was pressing kisses from the hollow of her neck in a line down to her navel, making her gasp and squirm with pleasure as molten warmth suffused her body and began to pool at her core.

Zane lavished attention to her breasts as a famine victim might savor a feast; alternately nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, eliciting soft moans and sharp gasps with the sensation. He'd relieved her of the lavender colored silk bra she'd worn beneath the blouse with a murmur of appreciation, so swiftly she'd barely had time to register its absence before she'd melted once more under the sensory onslaught he was eliciting. His shirt followed her bra and blouse into the pile of clothes forming on the floor by her bed, and Zane lowered himself to her once more, bringing her into a deep kiss.

For a moment, there was nothing but their two tongues warring between them and the searing heat of skin on skin, but Zane's need for her was only getting sharper and more urgent as things progressed, and his hand slid to the clasp of her dress pants. As he quickly determined, however, this particular pair of pants would require more of him than a quick flick of the wrist. He rocked back on his heels, pulling back from Jo and studying the clasp intently, the sudden rush of air between them like a blow. He tugged at it ineffectively.

"Jo-Jo," he all but growled out through his gritted teeth, "how the hell do I get these things off of you?" She looked up at him with glazed eyes, finding it hard to focus through the haze of desire he'd evoked. Jo blinked once, willing herself to focus.

"What?" she asked. Zane gestured with irritation at the clasp.

"How do I get rid of this thing?" He demanded, annoyed and just a little embarrassed by his inability to work the simple mechanism. He was a physicist, for goodness' sake. His thesis had been on the origin singularity and had evolved into a project that generated decades worth of data to study (and which nearly single-handedly destroyed Global Dynamics, but hey, who was counting?). How on earth could this simple clasp stymie him? Jo gave him a quizzical look, which melted away once she slipped her hands between them to work the clasp, only to transform into a frown of annoyance when it proved more challenging than she'd anticipated. It took her a moment before she was able to open it, at which point she lay back and gave him an apologetic glance.

"I'm not really used to these suits yet. It was a lot easier to get out of the deputy uniform." She admitted, smiling wistfully. He thought of the way the deputy's uniform had conformed to her sleek legs. Yeah, he could've gone for that. Hell, he had, at one time. I wonder if she still has that uniform lying around…? He wondered, turning his attention to those now gloriously accessible legs. Zane hooked a finger in the belt loops on either side of Jo's well-toned waist and slid the pants right off Jo and onto the floor. He swallowed hard when he saw the delicate lavender silk boy shorts beneath, and looked up, giving her a crooked smile with an underlying heat.

"Jo-Jo, had I known you were wearing these earlier, I might've had you naked right in Henry living room." He leered.

"I would've broken your arm." She pointed out; her tone so deadpan it took him a minute to register the words. Rolling her eyes, she pulled herself up in the bed and shifted onto her knees. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders as she edged forward and pushed Zane off the bed and onto his feet. Sliding on her knees to the edge of the bed, she reached out and deftly relieved him of his belt, tossing it onto the floor. Jo looked up at him, grinned that quicksilver grin which he was quickly learning could only mean trouble and excruciating pleasure lay in his immediate future, and tugged on both his pants and the hem of his boxers, which without his belt slid down easily and immediately pooled around his ankles.

Surprise only kept him frozen for a moment's time, and he was quickly pursuing her back onto the bed. She inched back as he edged forward, straddling her once more and sliding the sleek silk boy shorts down the smooth length of her legs. Jo held her torso propped up halfway by her arms straining behind her, her face only inches away from his. He shifted his weight to one hand and raised the other to stroke first her cheek and then the dark mane of hair tumbling down her back. Wrapping his arm fully around her back, he took Jo's weight off her hands and eased her onto her back, releasing her and pulling his arm out from under her, still crouched above her on all fours. Jo slid her legs from beneath him, one at a time, and entwined them around his waist.

"Zane," Jo murmured, looking up at him, eyes wide and expressive, and urged him forward with a gentle tug. Zane smiled fondly and pressed closer to kiss her deeply, his lips gentle and caressing. In another breath he slid inside her, Jo winding her legs more tightly around his waist. He rained delicate kisses across her face, lingering at her lips, and they both savored the moment in silence before Zane began to move, rocking slowly in and out but quickly picking up speed. Jo cried out, clasping him tightly with her legs and urging him on. As the heat between them began to crescendo, Jo grasped the sheets in her fists, clutching wildly and arching her back with pleasure as one last thrust drove her over the edge. Zane thrust once, twice more and nearly collapsed with the force of his climax, so long in coming. He buried his face in her hair, his entire body feeling boneless and his energy spent; then, remembering the baby, rolled to the side, reluctant to crush her with his full weight.

Zane wrapped a limp arm around Jo's waist where she lay next to him, languid and sated. The room was hushed and peaceful in the mid-September night as their breathing and heart rates slowed to normal, and the way the air played across the thin layer of perspiration that had built on both of them made Jo shiver and pull a sheet over them. It wasn't long before their breathing had not only returned to normal, but evened into the rhythmic breaths of a deep and sated sleep.


Jo woke with a start in the middle of the night, eyes whipping open and her heart racing, though by the time her pulse had slowed to a steady thud she could no longer recall why. As she calmed down, her eyes adjusted to the dark room and she regained some awareness of her surroundings. Zane's arm was still wrapped around her bare waist, his breathing soft and steady at her back – at some point in the night, it appeared, she'd turned onto her side and he'd unconsciously molded his body to hers in response. Light was pouring from the living room into the bedroom and with a hint of annoyance she realized that in their haste to reach the bedroom and in the subsequent haze of post-coital bliss, they'd completely neglected to turn off the lights. No doubt the speculation in town would be rampant tomorrow.

Jo shifted carefully from beneath Zane's arm, delicately placing it in the space she'd just departed, knowing from long experience (and the occasional Eureka-style late night disaster) that an abrupt departure would only serve to wake and irritate him. She paused by her bathroom, plucking the light blue bathrobe from the hook and wrapping it around herself, then padding into the living room in her bare feet. At least she'd managed to put away the food, she mused, checking the clock – just quarter past one.

Jo gathered up the bags from Café Diem, bundling them up and adding them to the collection of bags she kept for the moment a plastic bag became handy. She strolled across the room and adjusted the coffee table – it was still pressed against one of the couches from their antics earlier in the evening – eying the floor for any stray olives. Finding none, she turned to the light switch by the door – which was unlocked, the way she kept it while she was at home (after all, who would dare break into the house of GD's Head of Security?). Most people, Jo thought, eying the door to her bedroom, within which lay a certain blue-eyed delinquent, wouldn't even think to try. It had always been the best way to ensure she could be reached at all times, whether she was the emergency or she was, for whatever reason, unavailable via phone.

Jo flicked the light switch, sending the room into darkness, and made her way back to her bedroom as her eyes adjusted yet again to the lower levels of light. She paused at the doorway, eying the bed, knowing she should go back to sleep; the unease which lingered from her abrupt awakening making her reluctant to do so. Her eyes skittered toward the sliding glass door which led to her deck, currently fringed by the high tech blinds which effectively blocked out the world beyond. Jo padded to the door and felt around on the wall for the switch, hoping not to hit a light switch instead. Fortunately, she managed to locate the appropriate button and pressed it down, wincing at the slight mechanical whirr produced by the gears which slid the blinds in and out of place. Jo glanced at Zane's still sleeping form, but, seeing nothing more than a twitch, quietly slid open the door and stepped onto the porch, leaving it open behind her – why make more noise than necessary, after all – and wrapping her arms around herself once outside.

Jo's new home was in a relatively deserted area of town, as had been the house Larry destroyed with his rocket. The deck on the back of the house faced the edge of the forest which surrounded Eureka with both coniferous and deciduous greenery. It was only mid-September, so the trees were still verdant and lush with life. Her new home was on an incline, placing her deck at a second-story level, although her home consisted only of the ground floor and the basement which contained her dojo and armory. A curved set of stairs ran from the deck to the ground below.

Jo crossed the deck and leaned against the railing, gazing into the dark forest which stretched out before her, appreciating the perfect stillness of the night. Only a minute or two had passed before she felt a warm hand wind itself around her waist, and she leaned into the firm lines of Zane's body, turning to kiss him gently.

"I didn't mean to wake you." She said quietly, and then: "You're practically naked." She pointed out matter-of-factly. Zane chuckled, soft and low in his chest.

"It's the middle of the night, Jo-Jo, and I don't think any of your neighbors are close enough to notice, in any case. I did put my boxers on." He responded, sounding unconcerned. She shook her head, exasperated.

"Aren't you the least bit chilly?" Zane tucked her head under his chin gently.

"I've had worse." He said simply, and Jo's mind spun back to the day another Zane had once spent in the infirmary with striated ice crystals growing inside his body – remembering how cold and lifeless to the touch he'd felt. It frustrated her that she didn't even know to what he was referring – had he even been involved in that project, in this timeline? Had that project even existed?

Her silence stretched just a little longer and a little thinner than it normally would, and Zane immediately guessed at the turn her thoughts had taken. His smile slightly more brittle than usual, he stepped back and pulled her to face him, running his hand through her now hopelessly messy hair.

"You should get to sleep, Jo-Jo," he reminded her gently. "I may not be a physician – as you so eloquently pointed out this morning," his lips twitched with amusement at the memory, "but I'm pretty sure pregnant women are supposed to get more, rather than less, sleep." Jo's reminiscence dissipated readily, and she smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling.

"That your expert opinion, Dr. Donovan?" She teased.

"It most certainly is, Ms. Lupo. Furthermore, I strongly recommend sexual activity as a healthy alternative to your more strenuous work-outs…" He leered at her and she punched him none-too-gently on the arm.

"In your dreams, Dr. Donovan." She taunted, and Zane's responding smirk was automatic.

"Always, Ms. Lupo." He purred. But his gaze as he followed her back into the house was sharper than before.


DISCLAIMER: I do not own Eureka or anything Eureka related.

Author's Note:

Please don't hurt me? :) Seriously though... I hope this chapter was up to expectations because it took a month of writing and rewriting (there are, and this is the honest truth, three versions of this chapter). Most of what ended up being written in this chapter wasn't even planned... Zane and Jo were all "Um, if you're going to go through with this story as planned, the least we deserve is a quiet night at home." Seriously though, I thought they needed some character building/relationship building time more than plot right now. I anticipate many more chapters to come, don't you worry, and now that the holiday season is officially ended people will stop barging in on me and demanding my company, attention and affection. =) Oh, and - Happy New Year!

ADM