Everything Is Illuminated
The week following Allison's decree was unpleasant for both Jo and Zane, marked by a foul mood on Jo's part as she attempted to reconcile herself to the new constraints on her work at Global. When she'd first come to Eureka, fresh from the difficult and abrupt conclusion of her stint in the Rangers, it had been challenging, particularly with the temporary restrictions imposed on her by her injuries at the time, to adapt to the slower pace of her job in Eureka. But even then, she'd always been able to rely on the periodic crises at Global to add a little excitement to her day. Now that even those little moments were denied to her, the adrenaline junkie in Jo was itching for a fix, and it had bestowed upon her an edge and a tension that were only threatening to escalate as time went on.
Zane was bearing the brunt of her ill temper and had thus far handled it with surprising grace, considering the way her attitude was mirroring the behavior of the Jo Lupo who'd once persecuted him so relentlessly. Of course, the effects of her snappish irritability were tempered considerably by the way she'd taken to channeling much of that repressed energy into sex. On reflection, Zane thought his game of cat and mouse with the old Jo Lupo would've been far pleasanter if sex had been in the cards.
So it was that Jo found herself facing another Monday morning at Global, stuck on the sidelines, almost twitching from the effort of restraining her combined desires for a little action and caffeine. She was at her chair, tapping her fingers against the polished hardwood surface when the phone rang, snapping her out of her reverie. She darted an arm out and snatched the phone off the hook before it could ring a second time.
"Lupo." She answered, her tone clipped and professional, even as her fingers began tapping on the table once more.
"Jo?" Fargo responded, his voice an octave higher than usual, a tone she knew all too well – panic. A week ago this would only have made her sigh in annoyance; now it was a veritable deus ex machina, devised solely to rescue her from the agonizing tedium of paperwork. She resolved not to let this show in her voice.
"Yes, Fargo?" She asked, striving for disinterested inquiry. Fargo, not the most socially discerning of individuals, took it at face value.
"Jo, General Mansfield is on the line demanding you come and speak to him personally on the video feed in my office. I think it's important," he added urgently. Jo's hand stilled where it was on the desk, the now-familiar nauseated sensation in her stomach returning as she processed that this was probably not the kind of excitement she'd been hoping for. Now she really did sigh.
"I'll be right up, Fargo." She told him, then hung up and pushed herself out of her chair, making a beeline to the door out of her office.
The expression on Fargo's face when Jo entered the room verged on full-fledged panic, and Jo tensed immediately. The video conference monitor was already broadcasting, Mansfield looking characteristically forbidding from behind his desk, in full uniform. When Zane subsequently arrived, she concluded her anxiety had been well deserved.
"Lupo," Mansfield began, with no preamble, a stack of papers before him. "I've just received the monthly reports and something caught my eye." Jo straightened up and squared her shoulders, clasping her hands in front of her professionally. The least she could do was maintain her dignity through this conversation.
"Yes, sir?" she responded calmly.
"These papers from Dr. Blake indicate you've confirmed a pregnancy recently. She's placed you on restricted duty."
"That would be correct, sir." Zane shifted behind her, clearly wondering when the other shoe was going to drop and his presence would be addressed. Jo was curious about that herself. General Mansfield sighed deeply and looked up at the group from the screen.
"These papers name Donovan as the father," he stated, a question lingering behind his words.
"Also true, sir." Jo said, her heartbeat picking up slightly, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.
"Lupo, I have no interest or investment in your past indiscretions, but certainly you can see this can't stand." She stared at him blankly, but her mind was racing. Was he implying what she thought? Behind her, she sensed more than she saw Zane stiffening, and she sent out a silent prayer that he would have the good sense to keep his mouth shut and let her deal with this.
"You need to be in a position of control over these people," Mansfield continued, his tone of disgust indicating his exact opinion of such people, and the way his eyes flickered to Zane behind her suggesting one such person who came to mind. Jo could almost feel the tension radiating from Zane by now, and her mind was racing to find away to avoid the oncoming confrontation.
"It appears you intend to proceed with the pregnancy," he carried on, studiously ignoring Zane as he glared daggers at the screen. "As long as that remains the case, I am going to have to insist that you step down from your position as chief of security." Mansfield concluded. Jo's head whipped back from where she'd been eying Zane, scrutinizing his increasingly aggressive body language. She was struggling to form a response, but Zane, who'd been on edge since he'd first seen Mansfield on the screen, beat her to it.
"You have no right –"Zane fairly exploded with rage.
"Zane." Jo's voice was terse and a little entreating, but it was the shared rage he sensed in her tone that stopped him in his tracks. General Mansfield looked nonplussed from his desk. Fargo looked like he might faint. Jo stepped forward, slightly closer to the screen, and looked directly at the general. Her back was ramrod straight, everything about her appearance the perfect picture of military discipline. Then she spoke, and the tempered steel and restrained fire of her voice ran a chill down Zane's spine. He'd forgotten, in the past few weeks, how frightening she could be in a genuine rage – his instinctive caution in dealing with her tempered of late by the way her eyes softened and shone when looking at him. Even now it was a relief to see her directing her considerable force of will at someone other than himself.
"Sir," she began, voice low, and at the use of the honorific Zane shifted again with the force of his irritation. Jo sent him a quelling look and he subsided, for the time being.
"I am your employee," she said, her words ringing with clarity through the room, "and I may be subject to certain demands. But even in Eureka, we exist within the bounds of law." Her eyes bore into Mansfield's. "You have no legal right to make that demand of me. Nor do you have the right to withdraw my employment in Eureka if I do not comply. Now," she continued, heedless of the way Fargo gaped at her, "was that a suggestion or an instruction made by my employer?" She did not move an inch, did not bat an eye, but stared the general down just the same. His eyes narrowed.
"Merely a suggestion, of course." He replied finally, recognizing the truth of her words.
"Of course." She replied simply. Behind her, Zane and Fargo found themselves exchanging an incredulous glance. Mansfield switched to a new tactic.
"However, I must insist that you cease and desist in your… relationship with Donovan." Zane found himself holding his breath. Jo looked at Mansfield calmly.
"I will not, and you cannot compel me to without an independent assessment by a relationship auditor." She reminded him. The general looked frustrated, but resigned.
"Very well, Lupo. I take it this is the way things will be from now on?" Jo didn't reply. "Dr. Fargo, I look forward to your next update." Mansfield said, turning to Fargo. "I'll be in touch." The screen went black, and Zane let out the breath he'd been holding in one quick whoosh of relief.
Jo and Fargo exchanged glances, frustration and disbelief written on Fargo's face. Logically, he knew that Jo had been given very little choice, but that wouldn't help him during the next conference with the general, or the one after that. Jo gave him an apologetic smile tinged with self-deprecation, and headed for the door silently and swiftly. Zane shook himself out of his extended moment of disbelief and trailed her out the door, catching her halfway down the hall.
"Hey, hey, hey, hold up a minute here!" He demanded. Jo sighed audibly and stopped, turning toward him. "What do you want, Zane, because I'm not really in the mood – " Zane cut her off with a swift kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. She sighed a little into his mouth, her shoulders slumping from where they'd been tensed up around her neck as the tension from the heated exchange slipped away from her. For a moment they stayed meshed together in that hallway, time passing them by as Zane softly caressed the small of her back with his hands and they poured all the tender, violent emotions they'd both been keeping close to the chest into that one kiss. When he finally pulled back a fraction of an inch to speak – so close that the tip of his nose almost brushed hers – his expression was genuine and perhaps just a little shy.
"You were incredible in there, Jo," he told her seriously; then, recognizing the building emotional charge in the air, backed off habitually by covering his earnestness with his customary smirk.
"I'd certainly hate to be your enemy, Jo-Jo," he teased, a touch of irony in his voice. Jo smiled halfheartedly at him, still not entirely comfortable with the events which had just occurred in Fargo's office. Zane leaned in again, capturing her lips with his, and Jo closed her eyes reflexively, welcoming the opportunity to forget her unease. It was early yet in GD, the rotunda partially visible from the nearby stairs completely deserted, and – as was so often the case – things between them escalated quickly.
In short order, Zane had Jo pressed up against the nearby wall, her lower lip trapped firmly between his own lips. He sucked it further into his mouth, running his tongue delicately along the length of her lip, then released it slowly, only to trail forceful kisses from the curve of her jaw down her neckline. Her hand was inching up his back beneath his tight t-shirt, revealing a strip of skin and the firmly toned muscle where her hand was clenched, digging small half-moons into his flesh. It was then that the clatter of an electronic clipboard hitting the floor snapped them back to their senses. Larry was staring at them, digital stylus still clutched in his hand
"Now those are a real man's abs," he said enviously. With mortification, the couple realized that Larry was, in fact, only one of many people now streaming through the rotunda and into the halls of GD, some of which had a direct line of sight to where Zane and Jo stood pressed together. Some people were already coming in and out of the hallway outside Fargo's office, and Jo noted their expressions with a sinking feeling.
"Beat it, Larry," Zane all but barked, and Larry scurried off in his typically skittish fashion. While he focused on Larry, she was quietly observing the way the other scientists around her eyeballed them with disapproval, recognizing some of them with dismay. Fargo's office was surrounded by a number of other offices belonging to department heads and higher-ups in GD – Jo's office was nearby as well.
As Zane shooed Larry from the scene, Jo found herself recognizing several department heads and chairs – the director of physics, the microbiology chair, and an assortment of others: some of whom already disapproved of the Chief of Security taking up with the chief source of trouble in the facility, as well as others who had, up until that point, remained neutral in the debates and infighting that had intensified since the news had broke. The director of physics, who was of course the man heading up Zane's department, had already been enthusiastically broadcasting to the entire facility his dislike of Zane and his disapproval of Jo's unanticipated involvement with Zane. But this was the first time she'd seen that hint of disapproval from the microbiology chair or many of the other scientists in the vicinity, and Jo was certain she knew what she'd done to put it there.
Zane watched Larry scamper away, poorly disguised amusement written all over his face, before he turned back to look at Jo. She resisted meeting his gaze, instead slipping out from the space she'd been occupying between him and the wall, wanting nothing more than to leave quietly and nurse her wounded pride in peace. Unfortunately, perhaps, for the both of them, Zane wasn't the type to let things go: not even petite and fearsome warrior women ready and willing to kill a man with their thumbs (Jo wasn't the only adrenaline junkie in this relationship, after all; or perhaps he was just a glutton for punishment.) In this case, it prompted him to grab her arm and prevent her from making good her escape. He tried, mostly fruitlessly, to pull her back into his arms.
"Slow down there, sweetheart," he teased, but Jo continued to pull away.
"Let me go, Zane," she demanded, desperate to escape the judgmental eyes surrounding them, and the teasing glint in his eyes subsided as he picked up on the undertone of distress in her voice, sharpening instead into a more analytical and calculating gaze.
"You're not going anywhere until you tell me whatever's bothering you," he insisted, realizing now that this was more than simple embarrassment. He was a moment to late in recognizing that this had been the wrong tactic, as Jo, well and truly fed up with being told what to do, whirled around, hazel eyes flashing with the force of her anger.
"Like hell I'm not, Zane," she hissed, looking down where his hand grasped her arm firmly. "Let me go or I will do it for you." Zane hesitated, weighing his options, but ultimately recognized that keeping her there, in that hall, surrounded by an ever-increasing audience of Global Dynamics employees, was unlikely to soothe the pent-up rage that virtually emanated from her petite frame.
He released her arm reluctantly and she stalked away, disappearing down the hallway with one last glare for good measure. Zane sighed, running one hand anxiously through his hair and turning in the opposite direction, toward the rotunda. He took a few steps and paused, glancing over his shoulder in the direction to which Jo had disappeared, then pulling out his phone and looking at it thoughtfully. There was no way Jo would talk to him, of course, at least not yet. He was part of the problem, after all, if not actually the problem itself. But perhaps she could be persuaded to speak with someone else. Zane shook his head almost imperceptibly, unable to believe he was about to do this. Had anyone suggested, three months ago, that this would be his life, much less that he'd enjoy it, he would have laughed in their face.
Resigned to his fate, Zane dialed the phone and raised it to his ear.
By the time Jack found Jo in her office, her sudden burst of frenzied resentment having subsided into subdued dismay. She sat in the chair at her desk, looking absently at a framed item she held in both hands. From his vantage point, it was unidentifiable, and Jack suspected that was the way she'd prefer it to remain. She didn't turn to look at him until after the door slid shut behind him, no doubt having discerned his identity nearly the moment the door had slid open. When she finally looked up at him and Jack saw the strain on her face, he understood why Zane had called him, though the other man had refused to share any details, pointing out that Jo would sniff out any hint of his involvement within minutes and probably have them both dead and buried by lunch.
"Jo?" Jack said quietly, the tone of his voice asking a question he wasn't sure how to phrase. In any case, Jo caught his meaning easily enough.
"I can't do this, Jack," she said quietly. "It's too much." Jo looked down at the frame in her hands and continued. "Zoe hates me – "
"Jo – " Jack said again, interrupting her, but she cut him off.
"– she won't even answer my calls, Jack." Jo shook her head. "The entire town is watching me like I'm a cheap soap production of The Scarlet Letter, and they don't even know that I'm pregnant yet! As if that weren't enough, my relationship with Zane has turned GD from a workplace to a political battleground between GD'S 'haves' and 'have-nots.' Not even Eva Thorne managed that, though God knows she tried!"
"That was a different situation – " Jack argued weakly, but stopped short at the look on her face.
"Mansfield wasn't entirely wrong, this morning." Jo told him. "If I don't find a way to fix this, it's going to blow up in our faces, and fast." For that, Jack had no response at all.
For a moment, silence reigned in the office, Jack struggling for words as Jo slid the frame she'd been studying so intently into one of her desk drawers. The click of the lock seemed as loud as a gunshot in the quiet room, though Jo's subsequent sigh weakened the effect of the sound.
"I tried so hard to prove myself, you know." Jo said finally, glancing up at Jack. "To myself, to my father, to Sheriff Cobb, this town, the DOD... I thought maybe if I worked hard enough, I could get the Sheriff position." She laughed, but the sound was humorless. "But you showed up, and you did the job better than me – " Jack opened his mouth to argue, but she held up a hand to silence him. " – no, you did, I accept that." She said, derailing him entirely as she fiddled with the pen lying on her desk.
"After Zane showed up, I thought –" Here Jo paused, taking a deep breath. "– I thought it didn't matter so much, after all." She dropped the pen and studied her hands intently instead, still avoiding Jack's eyes.
"But then he was gone, and I had my dream job by an – an accident of fate." Jo struggled over the words, looking up at Jack. "It was a lousy trade," she admitted. "But I tried; oh, did I try. I threw myself into the job, barely ate – and when I did it never stayed in my stomach for long." She admitted wryly, "but I was so busy at GD, trying not to think about what was missing, that it never even occurred to me to wonder why I was sick all the time."
Jo paused, and Jack watched her expectantly, realizing there was more.
"Now I know why," Jo said quietly, "and everything I've worked for – not just the job, but the respect – it's falling apart." Jack hesitated, uncertain what it was she most needed to hear, and finally settled for:
"You've got Zane now, though." He reminded her. Jo looked up at him, the uncertainty in her eyes more than a little heartbreaking, though Jack knew she wouldn't thank him for the thought.
"Do I?" Jo asked quietly. "Do I really?" She shook her head with bemused frustration. "Some days, it's perfect, and other days it's like looking into a carnival mirror – he's still Zane, but everything is a little distorted and out of place." Jo shrugged helplessly. "We know each other and we're strangers, all at once. Sometimes I don't know what he'll do next, and it makes me nervous." She sighed and rubbed at her dry eyes, looking exhausted.
"I should go apologize to him," Jo said reluctantly. "I wasn't really upset with him, so much as the situation itself, but I took it out on him just the same…" she trailed off. "I felt so trapped," she murmured to herself, looking at her hands.
"Jo," Jack began, and then stopped. "He loves you," he said finally, willing her to believe him. Jo's whole body jerked with the words, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at Jack. It was obvious that this wasn't what she'd expected him to say. Sometimes Jack wondered what went on in her head.
There was a momentary silence, broken by the creak of her chair as Jo slumped in her seat, resting her forehead on her palms and burying her fingers tightly in her hair with frustration. What she said next was muffled by her position – Jack wasn't sure she'd intended for him to hear it in any case – but what it sounded like to him was this:
"But will it be enough for him?" The undertones in her voice made him think that this was an old hurt for her, and it reminded Jack how little he really knew about Jo's past. He questioned, once more, what it was that had made her hesitate, on the morning of Founder's Day. He was beginning to doubt even Jo knew. The one thing he felt sure of was that it had nothing to do with her actual desire to be with Zane. After watching Jo fall to pieces in the wake of the disastrous events of Founder's Day, he was more certain than ever that Jo longed for her own slice of happily-ever-after with a carefully concealed intensity. Watching her second-guess herself and her decisions now that she was so close to getting what she'd clearly been yearning for all along was – painful, to say the least, and Jack suspected there was very little he could do to help besides seeing her through the difficult times. In the end, she'd have to work her mixed emotions out on her own for it to do her any good.
The moment that Jo's emotional shields slid back into place was easy for Jack to identify, after several years of witnessing her infrequent emotionally vulnerable moments. Her whole body stiffened, her shoulders snapping back into her impeccable, military-precision posture and her face smoothing into a relatively unemotional mask. Over the years these stretches of time had become a little more frequent and of greater duration, but the common factor in them all was the inevitable return to the status quo. Jo gave him a polite but distant smile, her eyes sliding past his face as if she didn't quite see him at all.
"I should really get back to this paperwork." She told him blandly, and Jack understood that he'd just been dismissed. He hesitated for a moment, which Jo noticed, but by now Jack knew well enough that when Jo declared 'girl talk' to be over, there was nothing and no one on the planet that could persuade her otherwise. He hesitated as he left her office, casting one last glance behind him, hoping, though he knew better by now, that she would suddenly change her mind. But she was studiously ignoring him, her eyes glued to the papers on her desk, and it was clear enough that there would be no changing her mind, at least for the time being. So Jack walked away, resolving even as the door slid closed behind him to keep a close eye on Josefina Lupo over the coming months, knowing perfectly well that if left to her own devices, it would already be too late for the situation to be salvaged by the time she swallowed her stubborn pride and went to anyone for help or support. Perhaps they would get lucky and the next few months would be smooth sailing…
Jack snorted at the thought. This was Eureka, after all. The one constant you could rely on was that nothing would go according to plan. With that disquieting thought in mind, Jack made his way out of Global Dynamics, hoping that the rest of his day, at least, might be relatively uneventful.
Disclaimer: Eureka - not mine.
EDITED 04/27/2012