Disclaimer: I own no part of Red Eye, and am in no way earning any profit off this story. It is fan fiction, and is written for enjoyment, not monetary gain.

"I loaded it into the back of your car. It's still in the garage; we can take it out and dump it after dark." Jackson said, coming back into the kitchen and washing his hands. It felt…weird, but it was good to get clean again.

"I can hardly wait." Lisa said, tersely. Her eyes were still slightly red from crying, but at least now after she'd taken a shower and gotten dressed, she felt a bit better. Still awful over Keefe, but there was nothing she could've done about it – or as Jackson had said, it had been 'out of her hands'. She almost laughed at the bitter irony of the entire situation as she leaned against the sink.

"So. What to do until we can bury it?" she said, looking at Jackson

"Try and figure out where we're going to bury it." he shrugged, drying his hands on a dish towel and making his way to the living room.

"Wise ass." she sighed slightly, following him and sitting down on the couch. She folded her legs up under herself, feeling very young and very vulnerable again. Dammit, she hated this feeling. Of not being in control. Both she and Jackson were very much alike in that way, Lisa thought. Both needing to be in control. It was like a drug. They craved it.

"…earth to Lisa?" Jackson waved a hand in front of her face. "I said, d'you think it would be better to bring it to a dump where they burn things, or just dump it in a landfill?"

"Oh! Ah…well. I've never buried a body before. I was thinking you'd be able to give me some tips."

"What?" he made a face. "Me? Bury a body? How base. How utterly below my position."

"Shut up, Jack." Lisa ran her hands through her hair. "So. To burn or not to burn…"

"Either way, the bones will take a long time to disintegrate. Trust me; I know how much it takes to cremate a body." he said, quietly.

She was about to say something snarky, then paused. He was right, and it was a very low blow.

"Yeah. I know." she said, looking away slightly. "But I still think burning's probably better. At least most of the parts will be gone quickly."

Jackson fiddled slightly with the ends of his sleeves. He felt very uncomfortable. Then again, it could've been half-caused by the fact that he was still wearing the same suit he'd been killed in, minus the bloodstains, of course. It seemed to repair itself every so often.

"Lisa, d'you…have anything else I could wear?" he asked suddenly, looking up at her.

She blinked. "Ah…I think my dad's wardrobe is still full. You can…uh…I think they'd be too big for you, but you can take a look." she shrugged, getting up and walking up the stairs.

He followed her this time, up onto the second floor and into her father's room.

Perusing the closet, she held out a sweater and a pair of faded gray-blue jeans. "These are a little big, but they're the only ones that look like they would fit. Let me find you a belt…" she began digging through his drawers.

He held up the sweater. "It's purple."

"No it's not, it's 'Winter Plum'." Lisa said, not looking up from her quest. "Aha! Got one!" she held it up triumphantly, like a trophy.

Jackson was still staring at the sweater like it was about to bite him. "It's fucking purple, Leese."

"Hey, you wanted the change of clothes. Put it on or put it back." she shrugged, handing him the belt and turning to leave. "You have five minutes, and then come back out. We still have to work out details." She closed the door behind her.

Glaring at the sweater, he removed his suit and folded it up, laying it on the bed.

The jeans really were a bit big, but the belt helped. Jackson paused when he turned and saw he wasn't reflected in the mirror.

"Damn. Can't even tell if I need to shave…" he murmured, running his hand over his chin. He couldn't feel any stubble, but that didn't really mean anything.

He was about to give in and put the sweater on when he turned and noticed that his suit was rapidly vanishing into thin air.

He let out a yell of confusion and fear, stumbling back and hitting a chest of drawers with his elbow. "Ahh! Shit!"

Lisa opened the door and hurried inside. "Jack? What's wrong?"

"My suit! It just…just…" he pointed at the bed, sweater half-on, half-off; Lisa gawked for a moment before turning to the bed.

"Oh. Uh…" she felt around on the covers. "It's gone, then…"

"My suit…my fucking five-hundred-dollar suit…" he gasped, feeling as if he was going to faint.

She began to laugh, in spite of herself. It was a sort-of giddy, insane laughter; she was exhausted and upset and it all just bubbled up into her laughs, which were quickly becoming full-out hysterical screams of laughter.

"Lisa, stop that!" Jackson said, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her. "Get a grip! Get a fucking grip!"

She jerked out of her bout of temporary insanity, wide-eyed and shaking slightly.

"Jack…fuck." she whispered. His hands tightened their grip slightly on her shoulders.

"You okay?" he asked, leaning forward slightly. There was something in her eyes he didn't like.

"I'm…I'm fine." she murmured, swallowing slightly and feeling a little like she was being x-rayed by his gaze. It was unnerving, those bright blue eyes so close to hers, so close she could almost –

And then he was kissing her. Kissing her long and hard; surprise and a sudden jolt of lust making her knees weak. His arms around her shoulders, pressing up into her back; her own arms snaking up around his neck and dragging him down.

Her knees gave out and they fell back on the bed. Clothes were nearly ripped off; the small part of Jackson's mind that was still functioning on the level was glad to be out of that nasty purple sweater.

This wasn't something any rational part of Lisa's mind could pin down, either. Not that there was much of it functioning. This was primal, this was animal, this was hunger. It wasn't something they could control, and that was why she was letting him take her, letting him fill her up and pound her into the mattress, both of them making wild noises every time they needed air.

And when it was over, when they both lay panting on the bed, twisted together in ways Lisa didn't even know her body could ever be, they were silent.

Jackson moved a hand up to touch Lisa's cheek, cup it; he lurched once and then rolled them over. They were still tangled, but now at least the pressure was off of Lisa's back and hips.

She didn't say anything. Didn't know what to say.

He closed his eyes, kissed her one more time, then pulled the blankets up over them, and together they sunk into the inky blackness of a dreamless sleep.

To be continued…