Everything Is Illuminated
Jo strode purposefully through the halls of GD, attempting to affect the appearance of confidence which she was sorely lacking at the moment. It had been a substantial challenge to maintain a professional veneer while working at GD for the past two months, but in the last week it had reached an entirely new level of difficulty; even so, in comparison to all preceding days, today was off the charts. She sighed and rounded the corner into the infirmary on the last vestiges of her nervous energy, which sputtered out the moment her eyes landed on Allison in her familiar white lab coat leaning intently over a computer screen in the central podium of the infirmary. Jo hesitated, considering turning around and changing her mind while Allison was still preoccupied. But she knew this time had to come eventually, and Allison was already lifting her head from the computer monitor. Jo offered her a smile, but it was strained and uncomfortable.
"Allison… hey," she began, but Allison cut her off.
"Jack mentioned you might need to come by. To tell you the truth, I was going to come find you myself if I had to." Her eyes were sympathetic. "I understand you've had some news," she prompted, startling Jo into speech.
"Ah… yes," she admitted, wondering just what Jack had told Allison. "I'm pregnant," she admitted, nervous, though it was obvious that Allison already knew. She stood at the edge of Allison's platform, her hands wrapped in front of her. Allison's own hands were already in motion, pulling instruments from drawers and tapping at the keyboard. Jo watched the flurry of activity, feeling vaguely surreal.
"You must have taken a commercial test, then?" Allison asked briskly. Her tone was businesslike, which Jo appreciated.
"Yes. I hope that's not a problem?" Jo queried with hesitation. Allison shook her head.
"No, those tests should be fairly accurate by this stage," she said absently, then paused as a thought occurred to her. "You are sure the, ah, date of conception would have been at least two months ago?" Allison asked awkwardly, remembering the undertones she'd been sensing between the two since Jo had protected Zane from being redacted and returned to federal prison due to Allison's own reckless behavior. Jo flinched with guilt and embarrassment, thinking of the night before. She was sure, all right, but what Allison was suggesting wasn't so implausible.
"I'm sure," she muttered, "It should have been about two months ago." She stated, preferring to avoid going into detail, evading Allison's perceptive gaze as thoughts of last night drifted through her mind. Allison scrutinized Jo's medical files.
"According to this, your last comprehensive exam was about four months ago," Allison said, clicking through the documents. She looked up. "Does that sound about right, even… you know, under the circumstances?" She asked, giving Jo a significant look and trying to allude to the timeline changes covertly. Jo nodded. "So you should have had all the standard tests already," she mused.
"Okay, well, I'm going to draw some blood and run some tests, make sure everything's normal. It's been an eventful two months, after all." Allison pointed out, not without a certain degree of amusement. Jo didn't particularly share that amusement.
"You can say that again," Jo complained. Allison withdrew a blood sample from Jo's left arm with practiced ease and inserted a portion into nearby medical machinery for analysis. Her dark eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of her, Allison asked with deliberate casualness,
"So Jack tells me you've told Zane already?" Jo's eyes shot up to Allison's face, but her eyes were still fixed on the screen.
"I have," Jo confirmed, wondering where Allison was going with this. Allison nodded, seeming initially blasé, but she raised her eyes to meet Jo's over the computer screen.
"Are you sure that's wise?" she queried gently, and Jo looked at her as if she'd been struck.
"Allison, he has a right to know he's having a kid, even if it raises uncomfortable questions," Jo replied, defensive. Allison nodded, seemingly understanding, but frowned slightly as she asked her next question.
"Why didn't you bring him with you?" Jo froze. Why hadn't she brought him with her? She opened her mouth to respond, to brush off the comment without a second thought; she shut it abruptly, a sinking feeling building in her chest as she realized she had no answer to give. It hadn't even occurred to her to invite Zane to this first exam, and she had an unnerving feeling that, were the circumstances different, he'd be right next to her in the infirmary. She looked away, unable to respond.
Allison's eyes flickered to Jo's silent figure, analysis in their gaze, but quickly returned to scanning the results on the screen before her.
"Well, you are pregnant, Jo," she confirmed easily. "And yes, Zane is the father." It took a moment, but the words jolted Jo out of her silent contemplation. She stared at Allison with disbelief.
"What? Of course Zane is the father!" she protested. "I think it would know if it was someone else!" Allison winced.
"I'm sorry, Jo; it's just that, given… the, ah, situation, it really is unusual that you'd be carrying Zane's child." Allison paused, giving Jo a moment to register what she was saying. At waist level, just out of the sights of the security cameras, Allison made a come here gesture. Jo stalked over, slightly perplexed and more than a little annoyed, as if to look at the test results over Allison's shoulder. Allison grabbed a pen and paper and located them strategically where they'd be blocked by the computer monitor. Had to be sure it wasn't the Jo from this timeline who'd been pregnant, she scribbled quickly. Jo tried to minimize her reaction, but her face went pale in spite of her attempts.
"I hadn't even thought about that," she said, voice strained. "Is that even possible?" Allison hastened to reassure her, though she was remembering how Jack had mentioned seeing Dr. Grant merge with himself when they'd returned from 1947 the second time.
"None of this should be possible, Jo, but the baby is definitely Zane's. It fits with his DNA in the system." she said in an undertone, reaffirming her earlier statement. Jo nodded faintly.
"I think I need to sit down," she breathed, and Allison swiftly grabbed a nearby chair, which Jo sank into quickly. Allison cleared her throat.
"Everything else seems to be normal," she assured Jo. "As soon as you're comfortable, I'd like to do an ultrasound." Jo nodded absently, taking several deep breaths in order to quell her stress-induced nausea. She gritted her teeth and pushed herself up from the chair with her arms.
"Where do you need me?" She asked, terse from her struggle with nausea. Allison's expression was startled as she gestured to a nearby cot.
"If you'd just lie down over there – are you sure you don't need a moment?" she asked, hands on her hips, worried by Jo's pallor and exasperated by her stubbornness.
"I'm fine." Jo snapped, face strained. "Let's just get this over with, please." Allison threw her a skeptical look, but Jo was already halfway onto the cot. She sighed and rolled over a cart with the appropriate equipment. When she looked back at Jo, her eyes were closed, and Allison thought for a moment that she'd drifted off to sleep, until her eyes opened and looked at Allison questioningly.
"If you could just tuck your shirt up higher and pull the waist of your pants down a little lower…" Allison requested. Jo unbuttoned the jacket to her suit and hiked up her bright blue blouse until most of her abdomen was exposed, up to the hem of her bra, then pushed down the edge of her suit pants a few inches. Allison rubbed the magnetic wand briefly, hoping to warm it slightly, then slid it across Jo's still-flat abdomen, and watched as the image of the fetus appeared on the screen in real-time motion.
"Meet the newest Lupo," Allison said softly, looking down at her patient, gesturing at the screen, but Jo's eyes were already fixed on the image.
"Donovan," she corrected absently, her voice hushed with awe. If Allison were a gambling woman, she'd bet that Jo hadn't even registered herself saying the word. Jo's hand drifted upwards, almost of its own free will, as if it were about to reach out and touch the screen; but she caught and restrained the impulse in short order. Allison found herself scrutinizing Jo Lupo, not for the first time that day. Her normally carefully coiffed hair was slightly mussed, her clothes askew, and the expression on her face spoke of miracles. Oh, but it was going to be a long seven months; she could tell already.
It was already noon in Eureka, and the temperature was rising into the mid-seventies as Zane sped south down the small state highway on his motorcycle. The wind whipped at the stray locks of hair escaping from beneath his dark helmet and buffeted his black leather jacket. The roadway was relatively clear, a sight which was common in the isolated areas outside Eureka. He'd already been driving for an hour and had encountered a scant two dozen cars.
It hadn't been long after Jo had left for Global Dynamics that Zane had concluded he wouldn't be present in the lab that day. His mind was spinning six ways from Sunday, and he felt as if his skin was still dancing with sparks where she'd touched him. It left him feeling restless and unsettled. He'd actually paced her living room before hitting upon the obvious solution to his agitation, and once it had come to him he'd been out the door and on his motorcycle in just moments, stopping only to ensure her door was locked and to grab something more filling than coffee from Café Diem. Within a half hour he was on the road out of Eureka, with only one destination in mind.
Zane signaled a left turn and took the exit from the highway, followed by a series of turns until he was driving on a narrow though well paved country road. The road ahead was thickly lined with trees, so much so that the area was slightly dimmed in comparison to the highway. Rays of light slanted through the bright green leaves, painting patterns of the brush and the forest floor. There were no other cars to be seen in either direction. As he slowed down at the turn in to another familiar road, this time made of dirt, Zane felt something tightly clenched inside him release. He switched off his engine, coasting to a stop, and walked his motorcycle onto the rough dirt road. From there it would be about a ten minute walk down the dirt road to his destination, Zane knew, but he was feeling surprisingly tolerant of the obstacle. He pressed on down the road, appreciating the scenery and his sudden ability, sans motorcycle, to hear the bird song drifting between the trees.
It wasn't long before he arrived at his destination, motorcycle in tow. Zane took a moment to study the scene before him, which appeared to have changed only negligibly since he'd last been in the area. The building in front of him was looking a little worse for the wear than it had when he'd first visited as a kid of ten. It had been through an extended period of vacancy since he'd first purchased it, the year he'd moved to Eureka – on a whim, with his first two paychecks, before he'd realized that life in Eureka was going to be an ongoing battle to avoid being tossed into jail. That ongoing battle had made it very nearly impossible to visit since. After a while he'd stopped bothering to try, as was the case with so much about his life in the last two years.
The windows were boarded up and the wilderness had begun to encroach, not just on the surrounding yard but also the house itself. The path winding through the forest to the lake beyond had become so overgrown as to be nearly indiscernible. Zane eyed it critically, propping up his motorcycle before approaching the building with habitual wariness. He pulled a set of keys from the pocket of his jeans and skirted the pile of old wood along the side of the house, heading for the front door and noting that both the tan paint of the walls and the blue paint of the trim were beginning to peel. The white door looked grimy and Zane felt a fleeting moment of guilt as he took in the general state of disrepair. He still had bright, shining memories of a cherished summer spent basking in the affection of his mother and grandmother, interspersed with time spent wandering the areas around the forest and the nearby lake, just a few years before he'd started at MIT. It had been a particularly blissful period for their little family, during his mother's summer sabbatical from her work at the university. His grandmother had experienced her first stroke a few years later.
He slid the key into the door and swung it open, stepping inside. It was a moment or two before his eyes adjusted to the gloom inside, which was marked in comparison to the sunny day outside. Some light streamed in through the cracks between the boards, drawing bright lines across the dusty floor and kitchen cabinets. Zane's hand reached automatically for the light switch by the door, but paused as he recalled all the utilities in the house had been turned off. Fortunately, there was a flashlight in the saddlebags on his bike. He squinted his eyes, trying to get a better view of the dark room, but ultimately gave it up as a bad job and backtracked to the motorcycle to grab the flashlight from his emergency kit. In short order, he was back at the threshold of the house, switching on his flashlight and following its path with his eyes.
He was, he admitted to himself, somewhat dismayed at what he saw. The linoleum on the kitchen floor was curling up and away from the wall in the corner, the wallpaper in the neighboring living room was peeling by the window, and the whole house had a musty smell to it. He suspected that more than one family of mice had nested in the chewed up carpet in what he thought had once been his room. All of the furniture was long since gone, and he'd found an honest-to-goodness bat nesting in the linen closet. He was absently grateful that there was no attic to speak of; no doubt there would have been a whole damn family of raccoons ruling the roost. But no matter how deteriorated it might be on the surface, this had still been the location of some of his fondest childhood memories, and as he began to look beyond the superficial decay, he began to see something rather different.
In his mind's eye, the wallpaper smoothed itself out; the linoleum was replaced by a decent set of ceramic tiles; the boards vanished from the windows; a fresh coat of paint appeared in the kitchen, and a familiar woman with dark hair that curled ever so slightly at the ends sat in an armchair in the living room, a small, dark haired child cradled in one arm, the latest copy of Military Ma'am propped up with the other. When he entered the room, she looked up and gave him a smile that warmed him from his head to his toes, and the tousle-headed child's head shot up to gaze at him with a flash of the most brilliantly blue eyes…
Zane shook himself loose from the unexpected daydream, chalking it up to a sentimentality which this place of all places tended to bring out in him, and turned from his scrutiny to the bright flash of daylight outside the door. He suddenly needed the clarity of the sunlight, though all it was liable to do now was burn his eyes after standing around in that dark room. He crossed the room to the front door in just a few quick strides, and after a moment of adjusting to the bright light of day he headed for the path to the nearby lake.
He'd noticed the path was looking a little overgrown as he'd walked his motorcycle into the clearing, but it seemed he'd underestimated the state to which the forest had reclaimed the little path through the woods. The path was only evident in the way the thinner foliage and shrubbery cut a visible scar through the underbrush of the forest; otherwise, he felt as if he was bushwhacking more than he was following a trail. This would have to be dealt with, too, he realized, and added it to the burgeoning list that he was forming despite himself in the back of his mind. Even as he tried to convince himself that he was only here for curiosity's sake, a part of him knew already that he was going to go through with this project that had sprouted in his mind over the hours since he'd woken to face the strange new reality that he was welcome in Josefina Lupo's life and bed.
He struggled through the last few feet of brush and stepped out into a grassy clearing which subsided into a sandy beach, scattered with pebbles. The lake was narrower at this end, the beach on the opposite side small but clearly visible from the edge of the water. The forest on the other side brushed the edge of the lake and lay flat for a few yards, but quickly ran up against the base of a small mountain, the reflection of which glimmered in the water. Zane remembered the water having seemed deep and icy cold at ten; he wondered how skewed his perception at the time had been by his scrawny stature and his youth. He eyed the water speculatively, not quite inclined to take the plunge and test his memory but intrigued just the same. Would it be safe for a younger child, or would they have to be constantly on the lookout, he wondered absently.
Zane carefully selected a handful of flat pebbles and whipped them from his hand across the water, skipping them with an expertise born of that long-ago summer's worth of practice. He watched the ripples in the water dispersed from the point of impact and into their surroundings. His own reflection in the water wavered as the ripples spread, buffeted by the displaced water. The movement caused the sun's rays to dance and skitter across the water's surface.
Zane tossed his last pebble and turned to the grass, sinking onto the ground and stretching out on the grass. He checked his watch: just half past one. He let out a little half-sigh and closed his eyes, basking in the pleasantly warm day. This was clearly the perfect time and place for a nap – it had been a long night, after all, and who was he to resist fate? The last thing he saw behind his eyes, before the steady lapping of the water against the shore lulled him to sleep, was the way Jo had looked at him that morning, his engagement ring draped along the valley between her breasts. Perfect, his drowsy mind suggested to him, and he'd drifted off to sleep before he could even begin to convince himself otherwise.
Many hours later, the five time travelers had convened at Henry and Grace's home, night having long since fallen. Jo was the last to arrive, and with a quick glance behind her, she shut the front door and joined the rest of the group. She settled gracefully into an armchair the color of deep burgundy, placed by the arch which opened from the front hall into the living room, and fixed her eyes on the plush cream colored carpet as she steeled herself for the conversation ahead. Grace's gaze was knowing as she ushered her into the living room, to Jo's embarrassment. It never ceased to amaze her how quickly news spread in this town.
"Okay, we're here, we're ready, now will somebody please tell me what on earth is going on?" Fargo asked impatiently. He, at least, didn't seem to be up on the latest gossip. She wasn't entirely sure whether that was better or worse. All eyes turned to Jo, and Fargo scowled.
"Am I really the only one who doesn't know?" he complained. Jo looked down at her hands, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, while the other four exchanged knowing glances. Fargo interpreted their expressions with ease and pouted.
"Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?" Carter grinned, but this one was Jo's story to tell. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"It's Zane," she said, and to tell the truth it was something of a relief to admit to this – like tearing off a band-aid. Fargo groaned, bouncing out of his chair and pacing with nervous energy.
"I told you he was trouble! What has he done now? Does he know something?" She fidgeted in her seat, trying not to wring her hands with nerves.
"He knows everything," she said quietly. Fargo's eyes widened to what would be a comical degree, in any other circumstance.
"What?" he hissed, panic-stricken. She took a deep breath.
"I told him." She admitted uncomfortably, understanding that by doing so she'd taken matters into her own hands and put others at risk. Her eyes strayed to the window across the room, where they caught a flash of white from outside. Fargo stared at her, blinking, owl-like in his puzzlement.
"I – ah – I'm sorry, what?" He paused. "Why… would you do that? Why would you do that!" he repeated, raising his voice the second time, his voice becoming increasingly high-pitched.
"I'm pregnant." She said, feeling suddenly calm and accepting of the situation – it was what it was, after all – and he gaped at her. His eyes flickered to her stomach and back to her face, mouth in a perfect 'o.' Henry and Grace, who had of course only heard the latest gossip from Café Diem up to that point, looked only slightly less surprised. It was Grace who first jumped back into action.
"Congratulations, Jo!" she enthused, striding across the room and leaning down to hug her. Jo stiffened, not much for being hugged by people she barely knew; Grace realized her error a moment later, remembering that this Jo Lupo didn't know her nearly as well, but she stubbornly refused to pull away over the realization. Instead, she leaned in and whispered in Jo's ear.
"If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me… I know a little something about seeing the man you love change in front of your eyes." She pulled away, brushing a hand gently across Jo's temple, then settled both hands on Jo's shoulders, and gave her a serious gaze. Jo nodded mutely in acknowledgement, though it wasn't really something she had considered before, and probably wasn't something she was likely to consider in the future. Grace stepped away and Jo looked to Henry, who gave her a nod and a smile.
"I'm glad to see things working out for you, Jo," he said, looking sympathetic. Jo gave him a grateful smile in response.
"Carter," Fargo demanded, "This is insane. Aren't you going to do something about this?" Jack rolled his eyes from his spot with Allison on the loveseat.
"Like what, Fargo. The baby isn't exactly going to vanish, you know," he said, and even Fargo knew better than to suggest otherwise, "She can't just explain it away. It certainly didn't appear out of thin air." He raised an eyebrow.
"Well if that's the issue, I'll be the baby daddy!" Fargo shot back at him. Jo shot Fargo an incredulous look. Allison looked as if she were stifling a laugh.
"Think again, Fargo," Jo said flatly, starting to get irritated by Fargo's obstinance. Jack interceded, trying to look appropriately stern, though the corners of his mouth were twitching with amusement at the thought.
"A father has a right to know his kid, Fargo," he said pointedly. "Whether he remembers the – ah - circumstances, or not." Jo looked as if she wished she could sink into the floor or vanish altogether.
"But, Carter, this impacts Zoe too – " Fargo protested, but Jack cut him off.
"As Zoe has reminded me many times, she's an adult and she can take care of herself." Jack didn't look entirely convinced as he said the words, but he knew the damage on that front had already been done.
"Okay, well, if you're all done debating the future of my child," Jo gritted out, annoyed, "It only seems fair to remind you that I've already told the father everything, making this all irrelevant, and I included the obvious necessary details like how the hell this is even possible. So you might be more interested in knowing he's been waiting to come in this whole time."
"Well, by all means invite the felon into our top secret meeting!" Fargo ranted. Jo gave him an incredulous look, but opened the door and jerked her chin in a motion suggesting well get the hell in here already. Zane strolled in from where he'd been waiting outside, looking nonchalant, with a touch of smug. Jo narrowed her eyes at him, not liking the prospect of the scene his expression surely promised. She would be damned before she admitted it to anyone, including herself, but she wanted, just a little bit, for him to make a good impression for once on these people that she considered her friends.
"How do we know we can trust you?" Fargo demanded immediately, trying to look imposing but mostly looking flustered and intimidated.
"Hey, I helped you before, didn't I?" Zane responded smugly, leaning jauntily against Jo's armchair. Annoyed with his attitude, she gave in to a whim to pinch him sharply and subtly on the inner skin of his elbow, which she knew for a fact would sting like hell. He threw her a dirty look, so brief that it completely escaped Fargo's notice, and she felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a ghost of her own smirk. Unfortunately, it only encouraged his mischievous nature, which she really ought to have foreseen. He shifted in his position until his left hand drifted to the edge of the chair's arm closest to her and slipped down the fabric to the delicate and incredibly sensitive skin of her inner arm.
Zane kept his own eyes focused on Fargo, the sardonic grin still firmly in place. However, had Jo been able to bring herself to look him in the eye, the sudden appearance of a familiar teasing twinkle would have warmed her with its familiarity and yet not surprised her in the least. Unfortunately, Jo was too busy to see it, trying not to squirm under a headlong rush of desire as Zane stroked a familiar callused thumb over the length of her inner wrist, which sharply hindered her usually keen observational skills. She swallowed, hard, straining to pay attention. As usual, Fargo was wildly oblivious, though the smirk Jack was suddenly hiding in his cup of coffee strongly suggested he was not.
"Uh, yeah, but only because you got a quantum fluctuation generator out of it," Fargo shot back at Zane. Jo jolted back into reality, uncertain what was going on.
"Aw, come on, what did you expect?" Zane griped, throwing his hands up in the air. Right, Jo thought. 1,001 reasons not to trust Zane. Keep up, Lupo. Damn, but he was distracting.
"You didn't just have me violate the terms of my parole; you had me commit a felony. I asked for information, you said no, so I came up with another reward for myself." He smirked unapologetically. "Just think of all the things I could do with a quantum fluctuation generator. Really it was a win-win for you." Zane's fingers and his thumb suddenly traveled down her arm and began caressing Jo's own thumb between them. She may have twitched, just a little.
Carter must have noticed the increasing desperation on Jo's face, because he chose that moment to intervene.
"Fargo, Jo's right; we don't really have any choice but to trust Zane," he reminded Fargo pointedly, and gave Zane an acknowledging nod. "Besides," Jack added, and now his eyes were fixed firmly on Zane, "He has something to protect now, too." That wiped the smirk from Zane's face as quickly as the flip of a switch, and his hand paused in its clandestine administrations as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He had nothing witty to say to that.
"Fine," Fargo huffed, dropping back into his chair in an ill temper. "But General Mansfield isn't going to like this at all." Zane, Jo and Jack all rolled their eyes in response, but Allison looked concerned.
"Jo, I did some digging after you left this morning," she began, and Zane glanced at Jo for a moment, slightly startled. "It looks to me as if you're going to have to submit a notification of your pregnancy to the DOD." Allison admitted. Jo stared at Allison.
"What?" she said, tone disbelieving. Allison ran a hand through her hair, tossing it back over her shoulder.
"Given your prominent position in GD security, there are safety protocols in place for the situation," she admitted. "You're constantly exposed to a high risk environment. It's important that we keep your condition closely monitored, and we're required to notify the DOD of the situation." Jo gaped at Allison, unable to process what she was hearing.
Zane's amusement had been completely stripped from his face, leaving behind an increased sense of solemnity. There was steel in his eyes as he considered her words, and it sent a chill down Allison's spine. There was something sharper about this Zane that unnerved Allison in a way the old Zane never had. She cleared her throat nervously.
"Fargo's right," he said, surprising the entire room. "Mansfield won't like this at all – I assume the DNA tests will be included in those reports?" Allison nodded reluctantly. Zane shook his head derisively. "Invasive bastards," he muttered, and flexed the hand they'd planted a tracker in upon his arrival in Eureka. He looked down where Jo sat in the chair, lost in thought, and his eyes softened, his expression suddenly troubled.
"They're not going to make it easy on you, Jo-Jo," he said, ill at ease. He enveloped her hand in his own, caressing her palm with his thumb again. This time his touch was tender, his underlying concern obvious. The room was suddenly hushed. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes luminous and her mouth slightly open in surprise. Then she blinked, and smiled wryly.
"You think I can't give as good as I get?" Zane actually laughed, finding himself once more charmed unexpectedly by Josefina Lupo.
"Guess I forgot who I was talking to for a minute there," he said dryly, a fond smile on his face. "My mistake. Won't happen again." Her eyes sparkled, and she treated him to a brilliant smile.
"See that you don't," she said, eyebrows raised. Fargo cleared his throat loudly.
"Not to interrupt the eye-sex, or anything," he sniped, "but learning that you two can actually agree about something doesn't really solve our problem here." Zane threw Fargo an exasperated look.
"Relax, Fargo," he said disparagingly. "If Mansfield discovers your dirty little secret, it won't be Jo and I who give it away. We'll act our little hearts out, and the most Mansfield will ever suspect Jo of will be strikingly poor judgment," he mocked, intoning the last three words in perfect imitation of General Mansfield's own words. His spot-on rendition of Mansfield made Fargo flinch reflexively, and Jo cringed at the thought of explaining herself to the General. Zane must have caught her expression because he gave her a half-apologetic smile. Silence reigned for a moment, and Zane's eyes slid to the front door where he'd come in. He turned back to his audience and quirked an impatient eyebrow, his fingers wrapped in the belt loops at his waist and his posture radiating insolence.
"So if you're done with the interrogation, I was thinking I'd treat my baby mama here to dinner," he said, flippant. The group in the room stared at him, speechless, unable to do anything but nod, and the heads which swiveled when Jo stood from the armchair were wondering if death and dismemberment were imminent. The disbelief in the air was palpable when all she did was smile at the man disarmingly and wrap her hand around his, heading for the door without a word. He threw a cocky grin over his shoulder back at them as she pulled him through the door, but they suspected that it vanished from his face fast enough, as in the ensuing silence they heard a small thud and sudden exhale sounding like an oof from outside, followed by:
"Ow! Hey! What was that f – ?" Zane's familiar voice was cut off suddenly by what sounded like a muffled embrace, even from inside the house. A few minutes later, they heard the familiar sounds of ignition from Zane's motorcycle and Jo's car. The four time travelers remaining in the living room eyed each other with resignation, all thinking something along the lines of second verse, same as the first! while Grace watched the proceedings with interest and no small degree of amusement; there was, she reflected, nothing in the world quite like watching someone else's problems, to make you feel better about your own.
Disclaimer: The usual. Non-ownership, non-profit, etc. etc.
A/N: So here's a giant beast of a chapter, at least compared to the rest of these chapters, which I hope makes up in some small way for the delay in its arrival. Things are getting busy here - there are only like three or four weeks left of the semester - so updates might get a little spotty. But never fear! I have bits and pieces of later chapters written already. I have no intention of letting this story fall by the wayside. Incidentally, who is totally pumped for the holiday episode? I know I am. And I have to say - my favorite thing about this chapter? Writing Fargo. He's so prone to blurting things, he makes an awesome devil's advocate/antagonist. Though he's doing better in this timeline. Anyways, if you could touch base and let me know we're still good, that would be lovely as always.