A/N: Uhm. Rated M. Duh. Season finale tomorrow! sniffle

"Okay, three, two, one: let's jam!"

oooOOOooo

They lay quietly for a while, listening to the music from her speakers as she caressed his half-swollen member. He stroked Zahra's hair gently. Her breathing slowed. His eyelids fluttered, and he exhaled, happy to enjoy the sensuality of her touch.

His ears pricked up to hear that the jazzy horn-and-percussion piece currently playing was overlaid with Japanese lyrics. He strained to hear the words, but could only understand some of them:

What is right, what is wrong
It's like two sides of a coin

Zahra sang along with the chorus, which began in English, but then her soft voice mimicked the sounds of the Japanese singer against his chest.

The real folk blues
honto no yorokobi ga shiritai dake
hikaru mono no subete ga ougen to wa kagiranai

"'I just want to feel real pleasure'," Guerrero translated thoughtfully. "'All that glitters is not gold'."

She picked up her head and smirked at him incredulously. "Since when do you know Japanese?"

He shrugged, taking the opportunity to embrace her more tightly. "You know you think it's hot."

"Yeah," she admitted. "Little bit." Without warning, Zahra squeezed his prick. "But I'm sure there's a woman at the bottom of it," she muttered, nuzzling his throat.

"I plead the Fifth," he muttered. He let his chin tip up, giving her full access, and allowed a hum of pleasure to rumble his voicebox. After a moment, her mouth traveled down toward his nipple and suckled it very gently. His erection swelled noticeably.

"Can you stay awake long enough for this?" he hissed, only partly joking.

Zahra chuckled and tightened the grip of her fingers on his cock as she stroked him.

"I'm just saying, doc," Guerrero murmured against her temple. "Don't start anything you can't finish."

"Let's be honest with ourselves..." She cupped his scrotum with her free hand, and he sighed. Her thumb stroked the velvety skin, gently tugging and massaging. "...I wouldn't be the first unconscious woman you've screwed."

"Not cool!" he tsked. With a sudden effort, he flipped her onto her back, nudging her thighs apart, and lowered his weight onto her. She managed to maintain her grip on his erection; now as she caressed him the head of his prick nudged her damp folds. He held the half-press-up for a long moment, enjoying her touch. She smiled up at him lazily.

"Yeah?" he breathed at last.

"Yeah," Zahra answered, in a deliciously sexy voice that was part whine, part gasp. She tilted her pelvis up and guided his length inside her. Her moan sang out his own pleasure. Her eyelids fluttered as he settled himself and began to rock against her. "Mmm, that's nice," she sighed.

Guerrero stopped moving and glared down at her incredulously. "Really? 'Nice'? That's what you're going with?"

She tossed her head back, laughter trilling from her throat. "Oh, I beg your pardon! Shall I fetch my thesaurus?"

His mouth opened to deliver a snarky reply, but then she moved her hands to his nipples, and he bit his lower lip at the delightful heat her fingers produced. "We need to upgrade from 'nice'," he grumbled, struggling to control his breath.

Zahra tilted her head, lips twitching. "Despite the popularity of the missionary position," she said carefully, "it tends not to lend itself to female pleasure."

"Bummer." He leaned his forehead against hers. The music coming from the speakers was a Janis Joplin song he could not readily identify. "I wanted to see your eyes."

"You're such a chick," she declared with a teasing note in her voice; her face, however, was thoughtful. She twined her fingers into his hair, tilting his head so their lips were just barely touching, and began to roll her hips against him. "No worries, anyway," she whispered. "'Nice' is about all I can handle right now."

Guerrero frowned interrogatively.

"I think my battery needs some time to recharge," Zahra confessed, her dark eyes flashing meaningfully.

He sighed theatrically, grinning. "That was a really dumb thing to say, doc." He grabbed the undersides of her thighs and, sitting up on his heels a little, rested her calves on his shoulders. The new angle allowed him to push further inside her, and Zahra gasped at the sudden intensity against her overstimulated flesh. "You should know better than to tease a junk-yard dog," Guerrero warned. Eyes still on hers, he turned his face slightly to graze his teeth against her inner ankle-bone. He rocked back and thrust into her again, chuckling as she grimaced and moaned. "Not so 'nice' anymore, is it?"

"No, boss," Zahra hissed through gritted teeth. Her hands flew to his thighs, on either side of her hips, and she clawed at him convulsively as he began to push in and out of her, slowly and languorously. "Oh, it's too much, boss," she begged, her voice cracking, when he filled her once more.

"Want me to stop?"

Eyes wide, she squeezed her lips together and shook her head.

"Right answer," he praised her, grin wide and toothy. He maintained his measured pace, relishing everything about this moment. Zahra's nails dug into the skin of his legs. She arched her back and gave a short, high-pitched wail with every thrust.

"Breathe," Guerrero reminded her. He cupped her cheek with one hand, gazing down at her. "Breathe, my love."

Zahra turned her head and squeezed her eyes shut. "Don't," she moaned miserably.

"Look at me, Zahra," he demanded, voice low but steely.

Her eyes popped open at his words, but her face was still twisted with torment. "Please just don't."

"Fuck that, doc. Don't you hide from me. Be here, with me, now." He crouched down, compressing her slim body even further, and pressed their foreheads together. "You're mine, Zahra. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, boss," she gasped, her dark eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You got a problem with that?"

"No, boss." She had begun to roll her pelvis against him as best she could in her constrained position, the need for release growing inside her.

His thumb toyed with her full lower lip as she tilted her head back, gaze locked on his. Guerrero pressed her legs back and apart, until he thought she might snap, but she still rocked hungrily against him. His angle of penetration changed slightly, and Zahra gasped encouragement. Her moans began to sound desperate. Her eyes rolled with pleasure. He winced, fighting his own climax; he focused on the breath tearing in and out of his lungs and the sweat sliding down his back. Zahra wriggled under him furiously, frustrated by her awkward pose. He obliged her ferocious desire, using his superior leverage to slide his entire length along her passage. His knees were almost numb with pain under the furrows her nails were plowing, when her calves pressed down against his shoulders, rocking her backward, and she thrust her head back into the pillow, her dark eyes losing focus. A fierce cry of release tore from her throat.

"Yes, my love," he panted, unleashing his own climax. He gritted his teeth against the force of it. The ecstasy drained him so completely that it took him several long moments to realize that Zahra was writhing not to extend her own pleasure but to shake him off of her.

oooOOOooo

A/N: The song G translates for Z is "The Real Folk Blues", performed by Yoko Kanno as the closing sequence for episodes of "Cowboy Bebop". Can anyone say, "Jet Black / Guerrero cross-over"?