TAKE NOTE: This is your long-awaited M chapter. If it makes you squirm, you can always skip it. :)

Everything Is Illuminated

Much later that night, Jo tossed fitfully from one end of her bed to another, inadvertently winding the sheets around her legs and subsequently struggling against the constriction. A thin sheen of perspiration coated her and her expression was unsettled as she slept.

She was alone, and it was dark. She was alone, she didn't know where she was, something wasn't right.

"Jo!" she heard a voice in the distance and hesitated, trying to pinpoint its location. Why couldn't she find him? She was sure he was supposed to be there. It was quiet now and she panicked a little. She should have just picked a direction – anywhere was better than here in the dark. She stumbled forward, reaching out her hand ineffectually in front of her and stumbling. She felt a sharp pain in her elbow from an impact and knew she had fallen onto her own gun. How had it come off her belt, anyway…

She could see again! There was someone in front of her… "Jack?" she questioned, but he just looked at her silently. He was judging her. She knew. Behind him a tiny blonde was huddled defensively.

"You said he would hurt me," she said accusingly. "But you were the one I needed to worry about. You're a ruiner, Lupo." Her tone sounded familiar, but out of place.

"Jo-Jo," she heard in the distance, and whipped around. That was where she needed to go – she needed to find him! But when she turned around, someone was blocking her path. The general? Jo backed up in confusion.

"Lupo… I'm surprised at you," he said. "I want it gone. Make it happen," she backed away in alarm and tripped over her own feet, and then she was falling, and her stomach ached – had she been shot? She was looking up, and there he was, she'd found him, only… it was his face, but it was distorted like a rippling reflection in water… she didn't understand… she reached for him, but he was too far gone, and then everything went black.

Jo shot up in bed, gasping, unconsciously reaching her arm out in imitation of her dream. She rubbed both hands over her face, brushing away tears, and pulled her knees up to her chest, shuddering. The visuals from her dream were already fading away, but the sense of loss and fear hung heavy in the air around her. Reflexively reaching for the phone, Jo dialed Zane's number on the speed dial before she'd even processed her own intentions. When he picked up, his voice heavy with sleep, the sound was so jarring she almost dropped the phone with shock.

"Hello?" He said, sounding so very much like the Zane she'd once grown accustomed to waking with. Using the phone just made it harder to differentiate between the two of them, and having made the call already felt like a mistake. She hung up quickly; certain he would just shrug it off as a prank call or wrong number and go back to sleep. Jo wasn't sure she could face him after her phone call with Zoe earlier in the evening, which had left her heavy with guilt. Some of which, no doubt, had contributed to the nightmare from which she'd just woken. She'd had a history of frequent nightmares since she was a child, which Zane had once known well, but since Founder's Day, nightmares and subsequent insomnia had begun to be the rule and not the exception to her life. Jo rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling, heart clenching with guilt, loneliness, and not a little fear. It was going to be a long night.

Across town, a bleary eyed Zane was regarding his phone in indignation. Not only had someone woken him at – he glanced to the clock – 3am, but they hadn't even deigned to speak. He checked the caller ID and frowned, puzzled and slightly concerned, when he realized it had been Lupo on the other end of the line. What on earth would have possessed her, for her to call him in the middle of the night? Was something wrong? What if she hadn't hung up on purpose? This was Eureka after all. Concerned, he tried calling back but promptly received her answering machine. Zane groaned and slid off the side of the bed, padding with his bare feet to the bathroom off his bedroom. He turned on the light, wincing, and splashed his face with cold water to jolt himself into awareness. He dried his face and returned to his room, still squinting slightly in response to the bright lights. Rummaging through his dresser, he slipped a pair of jeans on over his boxers and pulled on a shirt, then headed to his front hallway to grab his boots and his motorcycle helmet, resigned to an early morning drive through Eureka. This was what he'd wanted after all, wasn't it? To get some answers? To be involved? Well, he was pretty damn involved now, and that included making sure Lupo hadn't passed out on her kitchen floor or been otherwise harmed by the latest GD disaster. Zane straddled his motorcycle and hit the gas, already calculating the quickest path he could make to Jo's house – trying not to think about the knowing look Carter had given him only hours before. Whatever Carter thought he knew, he was wrong.

The streets were quiet, which, Zane admitted, was a refreshing change of pace compared to the barely contained chaos that usually permeated the town. The air was cool, and Zane imagined he could smell fall in the air. The leaves were still green but it was only a matter of weeks before they began to become increasingly vibrant and would eventually coat the ground. It was only ten minutes before he reached Jo's house and dismounted the motorcycle, propping it up quickly and tearing off his helmet, tossing it on the ground as he stormed to the door of the house, trying with irritation to smother his concern.

Inside, Jo had been trying fruitlessly to go back to sleep, and, fiddling with the ever-present ring around her neck, heard the motorcycle pull into her driveway. At first she thought she was imagining things, until the pounding on the door started. Reluctantly Jo pulled herself out of bed – sleepily imagining he was there to shout at her for waking him up, though something about that didn't quite track – and stepped out of the bedroom. As she crossed the threshold into her living room, the knocking stopped and she paused in surprise. She'd made it halfway across the room when the knocking stopped and she paused in response, at which point the door flew open and Zane crashed through, stumbling and cursing as he caught himself. Jo stared. He must be really irked if he kicked my door in, she thought, groggy and vaguely amused. Drama queen. Then he caught sight of her, and to her surprise, the first words out of his mouth were,

"Jo? Why did you call? What's going on? Is the baby alright?" She stared at him, wide-eyed, not failing to notice this was the first time he'd managed to say 'baby' out loud. His hair was rumpled from his motorcycle helmet and he looked tired. He also began to look somewhat irritated by her silence. "Well?" he asked roughly, stepping towards her. He took in her disheveled, exhausted appearance, and his gaze softened. "Rough day?" he asked softly, and his not-quite tender expression made her heart ache in memory. She'd lost everything. What was even left? Jo wrapped her arms around herself and opened her mouth to speak, but found herself at a loss for words. The concern written fresh on his face was so hauntingly familiar that it shattered through what remaining defenses she had. Before she'd had time to think it through – or to think at all – Jo had launched herself into his arms, pressing her lips against his, her surfeit of emotions shooting like sparks into his skin. Tonight, he tasted not like tears and regrets and diamond rings; but of home, comfort and all things familiar and right.

Mind momentarily stunned free of its prior concerns, exhaustion officially put on hold; Zane pulled her flush against his frame. He'd kissed Lupo a few times now – had begun to get a handle on what, precisely, made the woman moan – but this was the first time she'd done it of her own accord and it was staggering. In some ways this was exactly what he would have expected from kissing Jo Lupo, before; she was all confidence and fire, but this Jo Lupo knew his body as well as she knew her own. That much was clearly evident, he thought, dazed, as she attacked a little-known spot on his neck which caused him to gasp aloud in a sharp intake of breath and pull her tight against his pelvis, grasping with urgency at her ass. God, she was addictive. That was when he realized how tiny and form-fitting her black pajama shorts were and he groaned. Jo was all too happy to oblige his interest, and provided him with full access by springing both legs up and around his waist, with one arm wrapped across the back of his neck and the other across his shoulder, all the while peppering his neck with hot, soft kisses interspersed by the occasional nip. He held her up carefully, propelling them towards the wall of her living room, but his gentlemanly care was tempered by his attentions to that fine, fine ass which had caused him so much trouble on many an occasion. He murmured something about guns into her ear, which caused her to bite down a little harder on his neck in annoyance at being reminded of the hallucination incident, and made his whole body jerk in reflex. She moaned in response to the corresponding friction, and he thought absentmindedly that he might have been waiting all his life to hear that sound. Finally he reached the wall and was able to press her against it, freeing up his hands to pull apart the braid in her mane of hair and explore every inch of her, but also enabling her to unzip his jacket and attempt to tug it forcefully off his abdomen. He was reluctant to remove his hands from their exploration up the length of her thighs, but capitulated for a moment after she growled into his ear,

"It comes off, now, or I get the taser." He was reluctant to push his luck, so hands up it was; but he wasted no time in divesting her of her own shirt and hissed through his teeth in surprise when he saw what was underneath, a low cut black bra lined with lace. Jo Lupo: the infinite puzzle. Zane doubted very much that he'd ever been bored for a minute, in that other life. He craved it, the constant battle that would be their life; craved her, with every atom in his body. The ring which rested delicately in the valley between her breasts glittered with promises, provoking him to dip his head and trace the line of gold chain down to the ring and back up to the lace lining of her bra with a feather light touch, rubbing his thumb over the peak of a nipple and smiling smugly when Jo threw her head back and arched herself towards his hands in response. Her bra was off and in his hands so swiftly she scarcely recognized what was happening. His hands returned to their exploration, and one crept up the firm expanse of her tawny thighs and under the hem of her tiny black shorts, only to discover… more lace. Zane sent up a silent prayer to the CEO of Victoria's Secret, and hoped fervently that it was a matching set. He inhaled deeply, hoping to regain control of the situation and his own desire, but only succeeded in getting a lungful of her uniquely Jo scent, and in response he sought out her mouth again, rubbing himself firmly against her. Jo gasped at the sensation and squirmed with impatience.

"Zane," she said breathlessly, and clutched at his back, nails digging half-moons into his skin. "Too much… clothing," she panted. "Off with the damn shirt," she growled, tugging at the hemline, and he pulled it over his head obligingly. She eyed his built chest hungrily and trailed her hand down the line of curls running from his lower chest into the exposed hem of his boxers. He sucked in a sudden breath, and Jo grabbed impatiently at his belt buckle and slid it off halfway before she was distracted by his lips tracing the still-pink scar remaining from her emergency surgery only a month before. He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses on the scar over her heart, cupping her breast and causing her to writhe against him as his mouth drifted down and his tongue darted out to flick her nipple quickly. She gasped, sounding strangled, and in response he captured her lips with near-bruising force, curling his arm around her bare back, hand wrapping around her side and brushing the edge of her breast, and bracing her against the wall. His other hand snaked into her little black shorts and grasped her well-toned ass.

"Legs down?" he requested, a hair's width away from her ear. His breath caressed her face with warmth, and she complied reflexively. He released her to stand under her own power – she thought her legs might be trembling by now – and slowly slid the black shorts down her tawny thighs to reveal her black lace boy shorts, causing his eyes to promptly glaze over with desire. "Oh, Josefina," he said, drawing out her name like a caress, "So fucking exquisite," he growled with surprising candor as he softly ran his hand down the lines of her hip. He slid a finger under the hem of lace and caressed softly. "I think, Jo-Jo," he said, gently, "that if you're going to change your mind about where this is going – now is the time to do it."

Jo was braced against the wall, legs slightly splayed and quivering. Her disheveled dark hair cascaded over one shoulder, stopping just short of the tip of her breast; her face was flushed and her lips, swollen. Zane knelt in front of her, looking surprisingly earnest as he caressed the curve of her hip. Something about the moment felt eerily familiar to her, and when the thought hit, it was with such force that Jo's entire body flinched. Her hand nearly shot up to the ring around her neck, but she kept her hand in place with the utmost concentration. Zane caught the change in her body language as it came, and was steeling himself for rejection when something shifted in her face and she covered his hand in hers, looping her fingers in the hem of the lace boy shorts and pulling – down. Zane's shock and desire were obvious on his face, compelling her to give him the answer which she wished in vain that she'd given in a similarly pivotal moment, two months ago.

"Yes," she said, throat tight with emotion; paused, and then: "Now take off your damn pants." He stood, kicking off his boots, and in one swift move he'd discarded both jeans and boxers. Jo peeled herself off the wall and stepped forward, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Zane," she said faintly, not sure who she was talking to, anymore, and leaned in to kiss him, soft and infinitely tender. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and savoring the feeling of her skin pressed against his, stroking his hands up and down the length of her back. Nothing lay between them but promises, and one small diamond ring. He deepened the kiss, biceps straining slightly as he lifted her one more and slipped inside her in one smooth motion, her legs wrapped around his hips in a vice grip. Time stopped in that moment: Zane holding her tightly as his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, and Jo biting down on his shoulder, hard, in response to the motion. As he began to move, Jo whimpered responsively in his ear, and Zane felt as if he might drown in sensation. He sped up, breathing hard, as Jo tossed her head back and dug her fingernails into his shoulders; and they both cried out with mingled exhilaration and pleasure. When they came, one after the other, Jo's eyes were closed, as she shattered; Zane's were wide open, in awe, as the pieces of his life fell into place. He buried his face between her neck and her hair, feeling overwhelmed.

Minutes passed; their breathing evened out, and, cradling Jo with unexpected tenderness, Zane pulled away from her and placed her on the floor, but kept her wrapped in his arms, his cheek brushing against the crown of her head. She leaned against him, feeling boneless, aching residually in the wake of her orgasm. A breeze drifted past them and she shivered, no longer caught up in the heat between them. She looked over Zane's shoulder and was disconcerted to discover that, caught up in the urgency of the moment, neither of them had so much as closed the front door. Outside, the sky was still dark, and the world, quiet. With a sigh she disentangled herself from Zane and padded across the carpeted room to shut the door with a quiet click, too sated to be particularly embarrassed by the discovery. She turned around to find Zane leaning against the doorframe to her bedroom; sanguine as always, in spite of his nudity. She crossed the room and took his hand, leading him into her bedroom without a word, and climbed into bed. After the briefest moment's hesitation, he followed, wrapping his arm around her waist and molding his body to hers under the sheets, reveling in the sensation of her skin bare next to his. She laced her fingers through his, and raised his hand to her lips briefly, brushing a feather-light kiss across his knuckles before tucking their entwined hands by the curve of her collarbone. They lay together in silence for a few minutes, lost in thought, until Zane finally spoke.

"Good night, Jo-Jo." He said quietly, placing a gentle kiss on the bronze skin of her exposed shoulder, briefly rearranging his head on the pillow and closing his eyes, face so close that Jo could feel the warmth of his breath on her shoulder blades. The familiar sound of his breathing lulled her into the deepest sleep she'd had in two months.

Disclaimer: Still not owning Eureka. Guess I'll just have to get used to it.

A/N: I was wildly nervous about posting this. Appreciative responses will therefore be much appreciated, saved and savored like a fine wine. ;) Not that I really care for wine, but you get the idea.