Author's Notes: Thank you to Montana Magic who pointed out how this should be broken up; in my haste to upload something new I didn't consider length or anything.
So, this is 'nothing new', just the original divided up so it's easier to read. Reviews are always welcome and inspiring.
It's Zane's cell phone that wakes them both up the next morning, just past eight. Zane groggily answers the phone, his head jumbled from five hours of sleep, beer and too many thoughts. It's Hal on the other end, sorry about calling so early – they aren't meant till start until nine – but he's got a customer who needs a Beemer fixed up immediately. He's willing to pay whatever, as long as he can leave by six. He needs to see someone else in town. The others are on their way. When can Zane get down there?
He rolls out of bed, careful not to wake Jondy, and shrugs on cleaner clothes. He's just making coffee when Jondy comes out, running fingers through her hair. The silver bracelets are on her wrist made a soft noise, like tiny bells, as she moved.
"Morning," she grinned, taking a cup of coffee from him when he offered.
"Is it?" he joked, stirring one, three, five, six spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. And a liberal slosh of milk. "I've got an early job today, so…"
"It's cool," Jondy smiled. "I can make my own fun here. I can cook dinner for you tonight, even."
"You can cook?"
"I can cook."
"Not just toast?"
She made a face. "I can make pasta."
"Cool," Zane put his empty coffee mug in the sink, not believing a word she said. "I better go."
"See you tonight," Jondy smiled at him, her eyes unreadable, but for a second, Zane swore she was going to kiss him good bye.
As if!
The Beemer in question was a blinding silver colour with every car related gadget you could buy. The guy who owned it was young; only twenty or so, with green eyes that unnerved Zane and was almost creepy in his manner. He cryptically explained what was wrong with the Beemer because vanishing completely for the rest of the day.
The four men worked tirelessly on the car; testing the breaks and reconnecting the stereo system. They all joked the car was stolen. A large dark stain the size of a pizza box on the floor of the car suggested maybe the car had been through its far share of not-so-legal activities, but they didn't mention it. They got paid for fixing the car. Nothing else. And the guy came back at five minutes to six, paid Hal his exuberant fee (Liam declared two-sixty for a single day's work a damn good wage) and left in the offending car.
Zane dragged himself back to his apartment. Somehow, beers and greasy food just didn't appeal to him. The man's green eyes had unnerved him and going home to Jondy, whatever she had managed to 'cook', and Millie seemed far more appealing than another dark bar and a girl whose name he wouldn't remember at midnight.
The apartment was empty when he got home; both Millie and Jondy were gone. He collapsed onto the couch, closing his eyes. He was so tired of running. He wanted a girlfriend and a real life; not a life that felt like he was a stand-in.
He dragged himself into the kitchen, to get himself a beer. Getting good and properly drunk before passing out on his couch sounded good. Great, in fact.
"Zane?" Jondy bounced into the kitchen, Millie bounding after her. "Hey! You're home! I just took Millie out for a run." Her hair was in a long braid, bouncing against her back, a bag slung across her chest. "And I grabbed some food for dinner - I even found a chicken!" She reached into the bag and pulled out the skinned, raw bird, holding it up like a trophy. Zane started to laugh; Jondy, her hair flying, holding up a dead chicken and Millie, eyeing the chicken from the floor, her long pink tongue lolling.
"Great. So, what are you making me?" Zane peeled off his orange coveralls, revealing a black and grey t shirt and grungy jeans.
"Chicken and pasta," Jondy nodded once, decisively and slipped into the kitchen, pulling a plastic plate from the sink and putting the chicken on it. "I'll cook, you can shower – 'cause you smell really weird."
Zane nodded, still slightly dubious about Jondy's cooking skills. But when he emerged, smelling strongly of some disgusting floral shampoo that Jondy had bought, he was pleasantly surprised. The table was set with Zane's chipped plates and mismatched knives and forks. Jondy's hair was knotted on top of her head and there was a smear of tomato sauce across one cheek. She carried a bigger plate piled high with food and Zane was suddenly absolutely starving.
"You took way too long in that shower, I set the table myself," she said, placing the plate of chicken and pasta in the middle of the table with a flourish. "Do you want a beer?"
Zane nodded, taking a seat at once place, eyeing the food in front of him. He couldn't remember the last meal someone had cooked just for him. Jondy returned a few minutes later, carrying two bottles of beer and the end of a loaf of bread. She took a seat opposite him, handing him his beer, pulling out a slice of bread and spooning food onto her plate in what seemed like the same smooth motion.
Just as Zane was lifting his first mouthful to his lips, the lights flickered and went out. A moment of silence over took them both before Millie let out a mournful howl and raced into the room.
"Damnit," Zane put down his fork and looked up at the lights.
Jondy stood up. "Let me get some candles. Where are they?"
Zane ruffled Millie's fur. "I haven't been able to get any."
Jondy rolled her eyes and mumbled something that sounded like, 'Men'. "So, we're meant to eat in the dark?"
Zane stood up. "Grab your plate. It's not that dark outside yet." Zane walked onto the narrow balcony, taking a seat on the cool concrete. Jondy looked on bemused, her plate in one hand, as she watched Zane trying to keep Millie away from his food.
"Take a seat, Jon," Zane grinned. "Just watch Millie."
Jondy shook her head and sat next to him, crossing her legs.
"So, this is your life," she mused, lifting her beer to her lips.
"Yeah," Zane said non-committed, poking his food with his fork. "At least until Zack moves me again."
Jondy fed some bread to Millie. "It'll be awhile before he moves anyone. Zack's caught up at the moment," she said, frowning.
Zane looked at Jondy's drawn face for a second. "What's he been up to?"
Jondy shook her head and looked up, her expression once again sunny. "Just… it isn't anything important. Or interesting – tell me about what's been happening with you." Her slanted blue eyes focus on him and he'd like to get lost in them for awhile. They aren't the eyes of the little girl he left Manticore with all those years ago. The eyes of that little girl were big and sat wide and normally in her face. Now, they seem to arch up, more feline than ever.
"What happened to your eyes?" he murmured. "They didn't use to look like that."
Jondy laughed, throwing her head back so her hair tumbles down her back in long dark waves. "Make up, Zane. You can do anything with make up." And Zane leant over and wiped the edge of her tank top around her eyes and realised that it was. Just an illusion; there was a thick make up stain along the hem of her tank top, but she was the girl he left behind.
"You look better without it," Zane observed, leaning back. Jondy shrugged, pushing her empty plate closer to Millie, so the dog could lick it clean.
"I look different without it," she corrected. "I paint my face up and Lydecker could walk straight past me in the street."
"You aren't hiding from Lydecker," Zane sighed, draining his beer.
"No," she admitted, her hands buried in Millie's fur. "I'm not hiding from Lydecker." Zane watched Jondy's lips turn down in what could only be described as an expression of unhappiness.
"Are you hiding from Zack?" Zane asked softly. Jondy looked up, a lock of hair falling across her eyes.
"No. I'm biding my time until I find Zack," she said quietly and then smiled. "Don't ask, Zane. It's just easier. Now, talk to me. Have you got a girlfriend? Do you coach a basketball team on the weekends? Do you moonlight as a Catholic priest?"
He chuckled but couldn't help noticing that the first question she asked was if he had someone special.
"No girlfriend, no coaching and no moonlighting as anything," he grinned. "Do you have a boyfriend? Do you moonlight as a hooker? Do you baby sit in your spare time?"
Jondy shook her head, laughing. "Never ever; I hate small children." She leant closer to Zane. "Do I look like someone who tolerates crying, whining, spitting, yelling and…"
Before Zane could reply, a crack of thunder interrupted their thoughts and within seconds the rain came pouring down. Millie barked out at the sky, fluffy and grey, the rain pouring down like an iridescent sheet.
"It's raining," Jondy said, following Millie's gaze.
"Thank you Captain Obvious," Zane joked, standing up. "We should get inside." The rain splashed onto the balcony, already soaking through the cuffs of Jondy's jeans. She hurled herself to her feet, leaning over the balcony.
"I love the rain," Jondy said and Zane watched the droplets run down her face and neck. "I lived in Sacramento for nine weeks last year and it didn't rain once. That's why I left."
Zane shook his head, leaning over the balcony railing with her. "Hasn't rained here in months; that's probably why the power went out."
Jondy nodded. "Remember when we were kids? And whenever it rained, we had to train inside? I hated that. They didn't let us train in the rain until just before …" she faltered.
Zane slung his arm around Jondy's shoulder. "Jon, it must be my cat genes, but I hate the rain. I'm going inside."
Jondy grabbed his arm. "What's so bad about it?"
Zane gave her a Look. "It's wet."
"Well, yeah, but that is outweighed by the good stuff," she said.
"Good stuff?" Zane repeated doubtfully.
"Yeah - Like the smell. It always smells nice after it rains," Jondy said. "And before it rains, even. All clean and fresh; and it makes everything look good."
Zane gave Jondy a sidelong look; her hair plastered to her face, her shirt plastered to her front and water dripping off of her onto the balcony.
"It does," he said in a low voice, and for a second he forgot whether or not he liked Jondy or he'd just been alone too long. As Jondy looked at him, with a bemused smile on her face, he slid his hand across her cheek and leant forward.
Her lipstick tasted cheap, with a scent of vanilla and Zane wished he'd wiped Jondy's lipstick off with her eye make up. Zane slid his fingers along her cheek and jaw, pausing when he found the indentation of a scar. He reached down and peeled her sodden tank top from her body, over her head and tossed in aside, leaving Jondy in nothing but a thin looking bra. She doesn't flinch as the cold rain hits her flesh, and she's the one who reached back and unhooked her bra, shrugging it off.
Then she tugged at his shirt, and Zane helped her, tossing the t shirt aside and only barely hearing the wet slap it makes on the concrete of the balcony. Jondy pressed up against him, flesh to flesh, body to body…
…Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…
Wordlessly, Zane pulled Jondy after him, back inside the house, tripping over their empty plates and beer bottles. Millie slipped inside too, and vanishes, like she knew that Zane wanted some privacy.
They tumbled onto Zane's unmade bed together and her lips were against his and Zane realised that this was bound to happen, and he knew it would from the second he saw her climb off her motorcycle. Maybe it was his instincts, maybe it was hope and optimism or maybe it was some sort of sexual ESP that only X5s had.
He got the girl, why is he still thinking?
What's your damage today?
Jondy's soft body is pressed against his, her tangled, damp hair fanned crudely out on the pillow. She's sleeping peacefully. Zane's arms are wrapped around her waist, his face pressed against her neck and he relishes her scent. But he stays awake, listening to the rain and to Millie, having the time of her life chewing up the couch cushions.
He tightens his grip on Jondy and she nuzzles against him in sleep. He wonders if she's going to stay with him now and maybe work at the garage because Zane couldn't imagine Jondy holding down a waitress job. Maybe she could be a bartender? She'd be good at that.
Something is unsettling him and Zane closes his eyes, blaming the rain and Millie's loud molestation of his couch cushions.
He got the girl.
