Everything Is Illuminated
Two weeks after revealing their relationship to the town, Jo and Zane were beginning to settle into a comfortable pattern. After their first night together, things had rapidly progressed to the point that Zane spent nearly every night sharing the bed in Jo's new home, neglecting his apartment. Certainly he could scarcely remember the last time he'd eaten there. Mornings dawned relatively early at Global Dynamics, requiring Jo's presence at GD from opening to closing and not infrequently at times outside that range as well. Zane's preference was, unsurprisingly, to sleep late – and his responsibilities were such that he easily could.
In reality, however, morning sickness tended to be deciding factor in their mornings together. On a good day, Jo was able to wake early and drop by Café Diem to gather breakfasts for the both of them, eating hers and leaving his waiting for the moment at which he dragged himself out of bed an hour or two later. But on a bad day – and the bad days tended to outnumber the good, as morning sickness went – Jo's alarm would go off, only to leave her wrapped around the porcelain toilet seat in the bathroom adjoining the bedroom while Zane mustered up the strength of will to go gather their breakfast from the café. On those days, they ate together quietly, both of them feeling disinterested in their food for two very different reasons.
After breakfast, the two of them would make their separate ways to work, Zane sometimes making a quick stop at his apartment, and neither was likely to see the other until lunch, with the exception of the occasional demonstrations. Usually he'd make an appearance in Jo's office, but on occasion Zane would find himself unusually wrapped up in work, at which point Jo would seek him out. Those days were usually spent eating take out from Café Diem at Zane's lab bench, steeling themselves to ignore the glances and jeers from Zane's lab associates. From time to time, Parrish deigned to join them and share his own dark and snide commentary with them. He and Jo were building an uneasy truce between them, but Jo's relationship with the more high-achieving, productive labs remained strained with the knowledge of her involvement with Zane, the arch enemy of all over-achieving labs, and the phantom of a budding friendship with the black sheep lab director wasn't helping.
Neither Jo nor Zane tended to leave work early – Jo was, in fact, beginning to suspect that Zane stayed late at GD not only to work without the distraction of the other researchers at his lab but also to keep an eye on her, which warmed and annoyed her all at once. When she finally decided it was time for her to close up her office and head home, she always made a point of mentioning it in advance, and almost without fail she would find him waiting for her somewhere in her path out of GD, coincidentally packed and ready to go.
Weekends played out somewhat differently. On Friday nights, they joined Grace and the other members of the time-traveling five for dinner at Café Diem, though of course nobody ever spoke of the group's shared dilemma. Instead they ate a companionable dinner together at one long table, talking and teasing about the events of the week. These dinners invariably saw Zane stiffly taking a seat at the far end of the table and speaking very little to his fellow diners, Jo occasionally running a soothing hand over his hand or his knee when he became particularly uncomfortable or tense. Zane never volunteered an explanation for his discomfort with her companions, and Jo thought it was better she didn't ask. He tolerated Friday night dinners, and to their credit Jack, Allison and the others never pushed him farther than he was willing to go, though there were always intermittent and speculative glances being made. The intimacy between them was more intense and prolonged after those dinners, and if it wasn't entirely due to the prospect of sleeping in the next morning, well, neither of them was as of yet inclined to question it.
After the emotional intensity of Friday nights, Saturdays began late and lazy in Jo's bed. Often multiple attempts to get out of bed were made and derailed by each party, due to either sleepiness or desire. By the time either Jo or Zane managed to pry themselves out of bed, it was closer to lunchtime than it was breakfast. Together they would endure a quick lunch at Café Diem, under Vincent's salaciously speculative gaze (the unusual breakfast hour never quite escaped his notice) followed by an extended goodbye in front of the café which Jack foolishly declared was on the verge of public indecency that first Saturday. Zane didn't stick around to see what punishment Jo had meted out, but the next week the most Jack did was throw them a exasperated glance as he walked into the café.
After Zane and Jo parted ways outside Café Diem, Zane would make a brief stop at his apartment to make sure everything was in order then hit the road again, this time on the route out of town. On each Saturday he returned to his old vacation home and began to make preparations, starting by renting a dumpster from the nearest town outside Eureka and beginning to tear through the damage to the building, trashing old rotting carpet and stripping the peeling wallpaper among a myriad of other odd jobs and details. He spoke to a construction company from outside of Eureka about making repairs. The owner of the small company had been surprised when he'd given him the location ("Out by that restricted access zone? But there's a whole lot of nothing out there!") As things stood, it was a necessary evil to hire an outside contractor, as using GD's official contractor would only attract scrutiny as well as tip off Jo to his extracurricular activities.
Saturday nights, Zane spent in his own apartment – reluctantly, but the town was looking at them oddly enough as it was – the last thing they needed was for people to begin claiming he'd moved into Jo's house only two weeks after they'd become an item. In a way, Zane was eager for the day they went public with the pregnancy. Once people had reason to believe they'd been involved for longer than it appeared, they could ease up on the thin line they'd been treading and focus on the relationship they'd been thrust into. Even as things stood, Zane didn't care much for these Saturday nights apart – if there was one thing he'd learned about Josefina Lupo in the last few months (and he'd learned more than he'd ever dared to imagine) it was that things went better between them when she wasn't left alone with her thoughts. It was a mistake he was loath to make again.
On the bright side, it afforded him the opportunity to gracefully bow out of Sunday morning church services, which he'd quickly realized were destined to be a weekly event. Instead, he waited for her at Café Diem's weekly Sunday brunch, affecting an apathetic facade to the inquisitive townspeople eying him, and when she arrived he was always perfectly located to appreciate the full glory of her version of 'Sunday best.' And if, perhaps, the sight of her made his breath a little shorter and his pulse a little faster: well, he'd always had a great poker face.
Two weeks passed this way, remarkable only for their normalcy (at least, by Eureka standards). But all good things must come to an end, and neither Zane nor Jo had ever lived what you might call uneventful lives. Tuesday morning was, therefore, accordingly eventful.
The explosion was, of course, in section five, and it set the klaxons to blaring in Jo's office with a particular urgency, causing Jo to wonder uneasily, and not for the first time, whether the klaxons might actually have different settings assigned to indicate the relative importance of the division in crisis. The tremor which had shaken the room only moments before had been unmistakable, making the klaxons something of a moot point. Jo didn't waste a minute, springing out of her chair and sprinting out the door, pausing only to grab her security access tablet.
As she dashed toward the closest elevator, she began to access Global Dynamics' security network, which had pinpointed the location of the explosion (Section 5, just as she'd guessed) and was already scanning the air filtration system from the lab for contaminants. She quickly entered a series of commands directing her teams to the lab and commandeering the controls of the nearby elevator to temporarily alter its priority route and bring it to her sooner. She quickly perused a set of floor plans for Global Dynamics, which, she had discovered previously, came complete with the locations of all personnel, as well as project names.
Jo had been unnerved when she'd realized the biometric DNA monitor which had, in another timeline, been used to steal her identity, was up and running in this timeline. She supposed it made sense, to some degree – in this timeline Dr. Julia Golden had never been in Eureka, and no doubt her alternate ego had been thrilled to have a new method of tracking Zane's movements. Jo would be lying if she claimed she'd never once been tempted to use it for the same purpose, before she'd come clean with him; more than once she'd reflected on the sad irony that a technology which had once brought them closer together was now enabling her to keep him at an arm's length.
The ride down to Section Five was quiet, Jo scrolling through the information provided by the security network and watching the dots on the floor plans which represented her team swarming in Lab 8. Somewhere around Section Three she fielded a call from Fargo, reassuring him that yes, she had noticed the blaring klaxons and yes, she was in fact on her way to the lab in question. He, in turn, informed her that the blast had originated from the physical chemistry division, to her dismay.
Jo had a particular fondness for the physical chemists of Global Dynamics, forming the foundation of a positive relationship which had survived the revelations about her relationship with the resident troublemaker intact: perhaps in part due to the similarly unique group of personalities which resided in that department. But one of their more endearing qualities had always been the controlled nature of explosions in their departments – as chemists who blew things up as a matter of course, they'd always had a knack for predicting the violence of blasts and isolating their chemicals accordingly. She had a long-standing invitation to participate in their demonstrations, and it was something of a guilty pleasure for her. She even knew a few of them by name. Jo stared at the elevator door as floor after floor ticked by, and willed the elevator to speed up.
A lifetime later, the elevator door opened with a soft ding and Jo barreled through, barely giving the door enough time to slide open. One of her men was stationed at the entrance. She gave him an acknowledging nod.
"What's the status, Wright?" She asked, pausing at the access panel.
"The fire is mostly contained, Ma'am, but there's structural damage and three injured." He responded, straightening his back unconsciously.
"Any dead?" She asked, frowning.
"Not so far, but we haven't yet been able to access the epicenter of the blast."
"Any clues what caused it?" Jo asked, not really expecting a solid answer. Wright's lips twitched with a hint of amusement, despite his best efforts.
"All due respect, Ma'am, but this is Section 5. I wouldn't dare speculate. I understand Dr. Deacon and Director Fargo are inside inspecting the damage. Perhaps they'll be able to offer some concrete answers." Both Jo and Mr. Wright were well aware it was unlikely things would go so smoothly. Jo smiled at him wryly and slid her access card through the scanner, stepping past him as the door opened. Immediately she was struck by the increase in heat and humidity, no doubt from the flames and the evaporation of the water used to extinguish them. She strode down the hall, feeling increasingly that she'd stepped into a sauna as she neared the center of the blast. The walls intended to contain such explosions were evidently also good for containing the residual heat they generated.
At the end of the first hall of Section 5, the maintenance crew was virtually buzzing with activity under the direction of her security team. Sections of wall were torn apart, wires and interior supports shredded and spilling out from the gaping hole left by the blast. Henry and Fargo stood apart from the rest, engaged in an involved discussion about the readings from the scanner with a short, round woman that Jo recognized with relief as Dr. Shelly Brown, the chair of the department. A few paces away sat the three injured, with a few first responders from the emergency medical teams. Jo took a moment to analyze the scene then made a beeline for the Henry, Fargo and Dr. Brown.
"Jo!" Fargo spotted her and looked immediately relieved. "You need to talk to these people." Jo stopped by Dr. Brown and raised an inquiring eyebrow. Fargo hastened to explain himself. "We need to get closer readings to judge the scope of the situation, and your thugs won't let us any closer to the scene." Jo shot him a censuring look, and he had the grace to look sheepish.
"My men are not thugs, Fargo, they are security professionals, and they're ensuring the scene is clear and stable before they allow any non-essential personnel through." She chided him. Henry raised a quelling hand and both Jo and Fargo turned to him, Fargo looking a little triumphant. Jo waited patiently for Henry to speak.
"Fargo, Jo's right. We need to let the teams do their jobs, and getting in their way is only going to slow down the process." Fargo wilted slightly under the mild reproach, but Henry continued: "However, Jo, it would be best if we could determine the source of the problem as soon as possible, and we'll need some readings for analysis before we can do that." Jo nodded sharply, and pivoted on her heel, striding with purpose toward her team.
"McCreary! Can I get a report on our progress here?" The brown-haired, burly man nodded at her respectfully.
"The floor's been reinforced from below, Chief, and it should be stable for non-essential personnel momentarily," he assured her, casting a glance at the cluster of scientists behind them. Jo gave him an appreciative, brief smile, her eyes trailing to the epicenter of the blast. What had once been a lab was now a mangled pile of wires, rubble, metal supports and broken glass, with charring and melting increasing toward the center. Maintenance crew members with fire-proof, non-conductive suits in a shade of orange that made her want to shield her eyes were conferring quietly, having extinguished the last of the flames. Fortunately the security system had automatically shut down the electrical power in the section and no live wires remained to reignite potentially hazardous materials.
"Keep me informed if anything new comes up, McCreary," she told her second-in-command, and turned around to approach Fargo, Henry and Dr. Brown, only to find that Carter had appeared while she'd been speaking with McCreary.
"Henry, my men say it should be safe for you and Fargo to approach the epicenter of the explosion for now, but – " and here she looked at Fargo " – please be sure to give them your full attention in case of any further issues. The last thing we need is for someone to injure themselves unnecessarily." Both Henry and Fargo nodded with understanding, Henry giving Jo an approving smile as they departed, filling her with the warmth of a job well done.
"The blast originated from Dr. Harrison's lab, right?" She heard Carter ask Dr. Brown and turned her attention in their direction. Frown lines creased the stout woman's face as she responded in her southern drawl.
"It is… I saw him just this morning," she commented, looking concerned. "He seemed upset… distracted, you know." She turned to Jo. "I know he wasn't there with the injured, but nobody's found…" she trailed off, looking at Jo meaningfully.
"Not so far," Jo confirmed, "but we've only just gained access to the blast site." Dr. Brown nodded distractedly. Carter, behind her, looked puzzled.
"You don't think he was in his lab when this happened?" An exasperated expression flashed across Dr. Brown's face as she temporarily forgot the situation.
"Jim had a tendency to wander away during projects." She confirmed, looking annoyed. "This isn't the first time he's been in the middle of a time-consuming procedure and wandered away, nor is it the first time that it's ended in an uncontrolled explosion." Carter muttered something about absent-minded professor types and mad scientists which both Jo and Dr. Brown elected to ignore.
"Honestly, Jo," she said, turning to Jo, "if he's not managed to blow himself up this time I may just have to kill him myself! I do have that cousin…" Dr. Brown looked thoughtful; Carter looked bemused. Jo, long since used to Dr. Brown's rambling stories about her work and her unique childhood experiences, stifled a smile and nudged Carter. He looked at her, momentarily puzzled. She raised a meaningful eyebrow.
"Carter, don't you think we ought to go investigate what was bothering Dr. Harrison this morning?" She asked patiently. He jolted where he was standing, startled from his inquisitive regard of the interplay between Jo and the peculiar chemist.
"Oh! Yes, ah – we should do that." Jack nodded his head overenthusiastically to compensate for his distraction. Jo rolled her eyes, but smiled encouragingly at Dr. Brown.
"We'll be sure to let you know as soon as we know anything, Shelly." She assured the shorter woman, then turned to leave. Jack took a moment to react before he jogged down the hallway to catch up.
"Jo! Hey, Jo, slow down!" Jo slowed slightly. Jack was breathing slightly harder when he stopped beside her.
"Shelly? Really? What's with that?" He asked, wheezing a little. Jo cast him a deliberately dismissive glance, though a little smirk was playing at her lips.
"You know Carter, I do socialize with more than four people in this town." She teased, stepping through the doors out of Section 5.
"Oh, come on Jo! You know what I meant. How do you know Dr. Brown?" Jack protested.
"Well, from… time to time… she finds it helpful to have an, uh, another munitions expert around. You know, for consultation." Jo explained carefully, trying to sound nonchalant. The elevator door slid shut behind them with a ding as Jack processed her reply.
"Consultation…" He said, finally.
"Yes." Jo replied, face blank. Her arms were crossed in front of her as she leaned against the smooth metal wall of the elevator.
"…you blow things up together." Jack concluded, deadpan.
"Well… yeah." Jo admitted, suddenly studying the elevator buttons with great interest.
"Should have known." Jack sighed.
A few hours later, Jo rounded the corner of the hallway toward the infirmary, making her last stop before wrapping up the case. After she and Jack had gone to Dr. Harrison's home to speak with his wife and found her packing her things, their case had progressed rapidly. As it turned out, Dr. Brown had been right in noting Dr. Harrison's increased levels of anxiety and distraction from earlier that morning, as the massive domestic dispute which caused his wife to pack her bags had taken place only the night before. As of that morning, Jim Harrison had been destined for a divorce, and within just a few hours the explosion in his lab had occurred. Allison had since notified Carter that partial remains had been located near the center of the blast, and both he and Jo suspected the worst. An accident-prone scientist under the influence of emotional upheaval was a recipe for trouble.
Therefore, when Allison appeared distressed by her request for the autopsy results and identification of the corpse, Jo initially assumed it sprang from the natural sympathy of one scientist for another. She was promptly disabused of that notion.
"Jo, you don't mean to say that you've been down in that blast zone, have you?" Allison asked, aghast; but the increased amounts of dust and detritus on her business suit gave her away, answering the question for her.
"Of course I have, Allison, my entire security team was down there. I am Chief of Security. Carter, Henry and Fargo were there too." She pointed out.
"Carter, Henry and Fargo are not pregnant!" Allison retorted. Jo frowned, not really seeing the point.
"Well I certainly hope not." She laughed. Allison massaged the bridge of her nose with exasperation, suddenly feeling a headache coming on.
"Jo, the category of 'things which are bad for the baby' is not limited to caffeine and alcohol." She explained, trying to be a little gentler. "You can't be waltzing around the sites of explosions with unknown chemical components. The baby is still quite delicate at this stage." In spite of Allison's best attempts, her seemingly accusatory tone grated on Jo, who began to get a little worked up, herself.
"I wasn't exactly waltzing, Allison, I was doing my job!" Her voice was becoming almost imperceptibly louder as her agitation increased.
"Well, your job is a health hazard!" Allison exclaimed, trying to maintain her own cool. Honestly, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had such a difficult patient. She was sympathetic, truly – it hadn't been so very long since she'd chafed at the restrictions her own pregnancy had laid upon her, and she, too, had been something of a workaholic as the director of GD – but she had to make Jo see she was responsible for more than just her own health now. Allison took a deep, calming breath, thinking hard. Then she began to speak, slowly and cautiously.
"Jo… I'm putting you on restricted duty." Jo froze in disbelief.
"What?" She finally managed to get out, her whole tensed as if ready for battle. Allison busied herself with the stack of papers in front of her, uncomfortable looking the woman she considered her friend in the eye as she gave her this news.
"Given the unreasonably high level of risk that experimental errors at GD could pose, it would be better for you to stay out of the labs for the duration of the pregnancy. I know that Fargo usually brings you along for demonstrations and that you're used to doing all your investigations firsthand, but I cannot in good conscience allow you to go on this way." She finally looked up, the distress written in Jo's eyes making her cringe. "I'm so sorry, Jo, it's just not – " Jo cut her off.
" – safe; I get it Allison. You've got to protect the delicate pregnant woman." Now it was Jo who wouldn't look her in the eye. Allison could see the moment another thought occurred to her. "Am I still allowed to work out? Punching bags, sparring and the like?" She asked bitterly. Allison looked at her sympathetically.
"As long as you're the one on the offensive, it's fine." Allison told her, hoping the news would cheer her, but there was no discernible change in her expression. Her shoulders were stiff with her anger and frustration as she headed for the door then paused in the doorway. For a moment, Allison held her breath.
"You should get those results to Carter." Jo said shortly. "I imagine he's going to be busy without me." Then she vanished into the hall. Allison slid into the chair at her desk and placed her head in her hands. For both our sakes, I hope that baby is a single child, she thought wryly.
Like everybody else in Global Dynamics that morning, Zane had noticed the tremor which shook his lab and caused an assortment of precariously perched glassware to shatter, mixing a few harmless chemicals to very little effect. This was, after all, the non-lethal weapons lab. Then the klaxons had sounded, and Zane had paused mid-cleanup to tilt his head, listening to the pitch of the alarms. He looked at Parrish, who had paused in cataloguing which chemicals had spilt.
"Section 5," Parrish said, furrowing his brows as he came to the same conclusion that Zane had just reached. Both Zane and Parrish, along with any number of other observant scientists in the building, were aware of the priority system that the tyrannical and judgmental Director Fargo had built into the security system (at the urging of the Enforcer herself, some believed). The non-lethal weapons lab was in the low priority range, barely a step up from mere flashing lights. Of course, recent events had demonstrated that their reputation as harmless was not entirely accurate. Zane wondered if the Jo and Fargo from the alternate timeline were aware of this system – and whether or not they had considered changing the nullweps lab's priority.
"Your mademoiselle will be busy today." Parrish concluded, sounding almost, but not quite, sympathetic. Zane glanced at the clock and realized with disappointment that there was no way he'd be seeing Jo for lunch today. Unable to hold back his sigh, he went back to neutralizing and cleaning the chemicals splattered across the floor.
After a few hours of cleaning, followed by time spent replacing the work that had been lost from the tremors, Zane glanced once more at the clock. It was around three, well past lunch already. Over the course of the workday, news had begun to trickle in regarding events in Section 5. Zane had taken in each new piece of information with a feeling of dismay and relief. It was increasingly clear that while a funeral loomed in the future of at least one GD employee, there would be no town-wide disaster to contend with today, just an isolated incident in Section 5. It sounded as if everything was under control, which was why, when Carter appeared in search of Jo, Zane was first puzzled and then alarmed.
"Zane, is Jo here?" Carter demanded the moment he appeared at the door. Zane's eyebrows shot up, but he maintained his typically disinterested demeanor. He leaned back in the swiveling chair at his computer desk, spreading his arms wide to indicate the entirety of the lab.
"Feel free to take a look, Carter, but I haven't seen my…" he hesitated, about to say 'baby mama,' but remembering his surroundings, finished lamely "…lady friend at all today. Good to know she's been keeping you busy, though. I'll have to thank her tonight," he added lasciviously. Jack, long since having made his own conclusions about Zane, rolled his eyes and failed to rise to the bait once more, knowing just how much that irked the Zane of the new timeline.
"Just – keep an eye out for her?" Carter asked, his brow creased with concern. Zane eyed him, said nothing, and watched as Carter left with a huffy little sigh. Zane's eyes flickered to the clock, and he noticed Parrish watching him.
"What?" He snapped. Parrish rolled his eyes skyward, his body language reading God, give me strength, then looked back at Zane.
"Go," he sighed, resigned. Zane stared at him.
"What?" He said again, this time confused.
"Well, you're obviously going to go anyway. But first you're going to sit here, distracted and useless, until you can't stand it anymore, and then you'll leave in a temper. Please, would you just cut the crap and go." Zane stood, still gaping at Parrish.
"Oh. Well. Ah. Alright." He muttered, flustered, shooting another look at Parrish as he shut down the computer and its programs. Parrish merely raised an eyebrow, and Zane departed the lab, puzzled but relieved, and ready to hunt down his apparently M.I.A. girlfriend.
About a half hour later, across town, Jo let her left fist fly into the punching bag, feeling the force of the impact reverberate back up her arm with visceral satisfaction. It had been an hour since she'd left Global Dynamics, her head spinning with pent up emotions, and after a quick lunch which she barely tasted, she'd driven home to work those emotions out in the only way available to her. She bared her teeth and shifted on her feet to let her other first fly.
"Are you supposed to be doing that?" The voice came from behind her. Jo jumped about a foot in the air, whipping around as her hand shot to the gun holster at her waist reflexively. Her work out clothes being what they were, her hand grasped only air. Zane, leaning casually against the frame of the doorway at the foot of her basement stairs, raised his eyebrows in response. It didn't do much to improve her temper. She turned back to the punching bag and added the interruption to the litany of grievances she was trying to work out of her system.
"Allison says offensive work is fine." She said, only further disgruntled by the reminder of her morning, and changed the subject. "What are you doing here, Zane?" she asked between punches. "You're supposed to be working."
"What, no hello kiss?" He asked, admiring the way her muscles coiled and bunched beneath her skin with every strike she made.
"Zane, you are treading on my last nerve, so I suggest you tread lightly." Zane frowned slightly, his eyebrows knitting together with perplexity. This was a far cry from the incarnation of Jo he'd woken up next to that morning, he realized as he picked up on the tension written in her body language. Zane had been relieved to find her down here, safe and sound and kicking ass the way only Jo could. When Carter had appeared in the lab, seeming concerned for her, this hadn't been the scene Zane had worried he'd find. Next time, he reflected, he'd suck it up and ask questions – to hell with his pride. Eying Jo, he racked his mind for a suitable explanation, unable to think what he might have done this time, and even less able to imagine what else would have set her off. He still wasn't used to seeing her angry with something or someone unrelated to him.
"Shouldn't you be at work?" He questioned tentatively, and winced as the force of her next punch intensified accordingly. "Or not…" he said lamely. She muttered something in response and he cocked his head with puzzlement.
"What?" he asked, though it may have been somewhat foolhardy to acknowledge she'd said anything at all.
"I said, 'what's the point, when it's glorified desk duty?'" She snapped, pulling away from the punching bag to send a withering glare his way. His eyebrows shot up. He couldn't imagine any universe in which Josefina Lupo would take that sitting down.
"How so?" he asked cautiously, trying not to spring the emotionally volatile trap someone at GD had apparently been kind enough to arrange for him. Was Fargo responsible for this? Revenge, perhaps? If so, it was clearly working. Jo huffed in seeming irritation, but it came out sounding just a little bit closer to a sigh. Her shoulders, previously tense with defiance, slumped.
"Allison's putting me on restricted duty," she admitted, looking suddenly exhausted. "She wants me out of the labs as much as possible. No demonstrations, no active scenes. Safety precaution, I guess." Zane paused, racking his mind for the best possible way to diffuse the situation.
"She does have a point," he said slowly – carefully. Jo narrowed her eyes at him. "That doesn't mean you have to like it." He added hastily. "But those demonstrations are risky." He reminded her, once he'd ascertained she wasn't planning on snapping any of his fingers. "If I were you, I'd just think of this as a great excuse not to go." He suggested optimistically. Jo's expression was a little incredulous, looking at him, but soon settled into resignation. She smiled at him, but her face looked wan.
"I'll get used to it," she assured him half-heartedly. Zane studied her for a moment, finding the resigned expression on her face new and unsettling, and made a snap decision. Stepping closer, he planted his feet squarely on the ground, bracing his legs, and bent his knees slightly until he was in a basic defensive stance. The expression on Jo's face could not have been any more dumbfounded had he announced his intention to take a vow of celibacy and become a monk.
"What are you doing?" She sputtered. He grinned and wiggled his fingers in a come hither gesture, a la The Matrix. She rolled her eyes.
"No." His thousand-watt smile didn't fade in the least.
"Come on, Jo-Jo." He tempted. "Just take a swing. You know you want to." He waggled his eyebrows. "I'll make it worth your while."
"Don't be ridiculous," she snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'd crush you."
"You never know, maybe I've picked up some skills over the years." She raised an eyebrow.
"Is that so?" She asked, skeptical.
"It's amazing, the things you pick up when you want to impress a gorgeous woman." He paused. "Or irritate her." Jo cocked her head, smiling despite herself.
"You know, on second thought, I'm thinking I want to see these skills firsthand." She said, and began to prowl slowly across the room. As she stepped within arms' length of him, she leaned forward and jabbed first one hand, then the other at his ribs in rapid succession, which to his credit he managed to block from making impact – his earlier words about picking up a skill or two in contending with the Enforcer were not entirely without basis. He was not, however, nearly as lucky with Jo's knee, which swung up shortly thereafter to impact with his gut, knocking the wind out of him. While he was still reeling for air, she braced herself and grabbed his arm, twisting swiftly, and the next thing he knew he was on the floor, on his back, gaping up at her like a fish and gasping for air.
Jo smirked slowly, leaning over him. For a moment, Zane just lay there and appreciated the way her eyes were gleaming and her skin glowing. Mission accomplished – and totally worth it. That said, he had to admit he'd forgotten how much it hurt when she floored him.
"Well, color this woman impressed," she teased, hands on her hips. He finally managed to rustle up a playful grin, despite the unpleasantly constricted sensation still lingering in his chest, and Jo's eyes softened at the sight. She knelt and then took a seat on the floor by his side, her lips tilted into a temporarily contented smile. Zane's eyes traced her, from the tip of her smile down the gentle curve of her neck, to the contrasting sharp angles of her collarbone and the smooth muscles of her arms, which he suddenly realized had broken into goosebumps. He raised the hand closest to her and traced her lower arm softly, feeling the delicately pricked hairs under his fingers, and looked up into her face.
"Are you cold?" He asked, frowning. Jo brushed off his concern automatically.
"Just cooling down after all that exercise." She said dismissively, then paused and glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. "Though… I could really go for a hot shower, now that I think about it." She said thoughtfully. Zane, who had just settled onto his back and closed his eyes, murmured,
"Mmm… a hot shower sounds lovely," but didn't move an inch. Jo shifted to place her free hand over his where it still lay caressing her arm, squeezing his hand firmly. His hand stilled its motion and he cracked open an eye, looking at her speculatively. She raised her eyebrows significantly and stood up slowly, pausing to pull her long black hair out of its constricting ponytail, giving it a good shake and letting it cascade down her back as she sauntered to the stairs. Zane gazed at her, enjoying the view from behind. The more time he spent with Josefina Lupo, the easier it was to believe that in another life she'd made an honest man of him – and the harder it was to believe he'd waited a whole two years to propose. Snapping out of his thoughts as she disappeared up the staircase, he sprang to his feet and ascended the stairs after her, two steps at a time. He might not be ready for a proposal just yet, but in the meantime, he wasn't about to let another minute go to waste.
Disclaimer: I don't own stuff. Eureka stuff. Don't own that.
Author's Note: What's this? An update? No! It can't be! Wait a minute... the longest chapter yet? Yes, my friends, it is so. This chapter, in fact, exceeded my term paper for Immunology in length... by a substantial amount. So I confess I'm quite pleased. I hope the content is still meeting your approval. It was a little different to write, but I liked a lot of the first half. Mostly I'm proud that I finished it! And well within a month, as promised. Yes, it took twelve days but it's twice the length of the chapters that took me seven days... soooo... lol okay maybe I'm just making excuses now. I have to warn you, though, I'm on vacation next week. On the upside though I'm bringing an old school notebook to write in on the beach. We'll see what comes of that. Hilarity, perhaps.
Also? Two feet of snow outside. Two! There's a cherry tree in my front yard, which is about as tall as me (5' or so) and the snowblower completely buried it when cleaning out the driveway. Eesh.
ADM