Everything Is Illuminated
As it transpired, Eureka was quite fortunate that Thanksgiving, though a tornado did touch down in Eureka that night, not far from Fargo's house. The population density of the area being relatively sparse – as was the case with most of Eureka, given that the town comprised a sizable swathe of land which was ensconced within one of Oregon's state forests and much larger than necessary to house a town which scarcely exceeded a population of 400.
As a result, after touchdown only five houses lay in the tornado's path, after which it tore through the nearby forest before dissipating, the conditions from which it arose accompanying it into oblivion. Eureka residents, accustomed to the extraordinary happening in their town with great regularity, took it in stride. As usual, there were protocols in place for those displaced from their homes. Temporary housing was at the ready, and each family was given the opportunity to rebuild or repair their homes as they pleased, or to make their temporary homes permanent. Jo's decision to stay with Carter earlier in the summer was atypical; most residents opted for the empty homes GD maintained as temporary housing, though like Jo many went on to have their homes rebuilt to their specifications.
By Monday, the displaced townspeople had settled into their new accommodations, having received such possessions as GD'S clean-up crews had recovered. Traffic drones had converged on the streets of the town, clearing up the detritus of both storm and tornado, rendering the streets of the town safe and passable. The techs responsible for the glitch in the smart roads system had received a sound tongue-lashing from Fargo (who, as it turned out, was unnervingly good at lecturing underlings – perhaps due to the number of times he had been subjected to similar lectures by the king of ego degradation himself, Nathan Stark.).
Monday morning found Jo camped out in her car in the parking lot behind Café Diem, cursing her own cowardice. They had always known that eventually the town would have to find out about her pregnancy; it had gone without saying that once Zoe knew, there was no reason to keep it secret any longer.
So there she was, sitting in the driver's seat of her car, wearing maternity clothes which, while they were frankly a relief from her increasingly uncomfortable wardrobe, did very little indeed to disguise the new curve to her abdomen. She'd always thought she'd be doing this with Zane at her side, but they'd barely spoken since Thanksgiving. The words she'd spoken in her impotent frustration had settled like a dark cloud between them, blocking any hint of meaningful contact. As he'd walked out of her house that night, she'd made a last ditch attempt at apology, stopping him short, but all he'd said was "There's nothing to apologize for" with an ironic twist to his lips, and stepped into the inky black night. She'd spent much of the ensuing days with Zoe, trying to forget the flash of hurt that had appeared on his face before he'd gone utterly cold.
Zoe, who had just startled her out of her reverie by appearing out of nowhere to knock on her window. Jo opened the door.
"You look like you're about to go to battle," Zoe said laughingly. "Aren't you even a little relieved to get the big secret off your chest?"
If only you knew, Jo thought wryly. "Zoe, what are you doing here?" She asked instead. Zoe clasped a hand to her heart dramatically.
"Jo, you wound me!" She declared, and then rolled her eyes. "Like I would miss this." Jo frowned.
"Shouldn't you be back at Harvard – it's a weekday!" Zoe shrugged.
"Classes were made to be skipped." She gave Jo a level look, reminding Jo of the elder Carter. "You obviously need me more. You don't have to do this alone, you know." Jo mustered up a grateful smile and pushed the door open the rest of the way, sliding out of the driver's seat. Zoe's eyes widened as Jo stood up and closed the door, the lock clicking into place.
"Wow. Seriously, how did a town full of geniuses not notice that?" Jo smiled ruefully.
"Zoe, I saw the head of the geology department accidentally butter a donut the other day, he was so caught up in the article he was reading. They don't see what they're not looking for. I just hope I don't have to spell it out for them," she finished dryly.
"Please, Jo, give Vincent some credit." Zoe responded, eyes twinkling.
"Oh, I give Vincent plenty of credit. Why do you think I've been avoiding Café Diem for the last month?" Jo pointed out. Zoe laughed.
"Fair enough."
It was a busy morning at Café Diem, especially for a Monday. Between Thursday's tornado and the advent of the holidays, the normally peaceful café was verging on chaotic. The holiday season was nigh upon Global Dynamics and as the soporific effect of Thanksgiving wore off(in any case having been somewhat disrupted by the occasional accidental tornado), Eureka's scientists were becoming deeply aware of the upcoming festivities. Christmas meant family and celebration but it also meant deadlines, the end of the year. New Year's Eve was an ideal night to mark any number of deadlines, and as a result Eureka was always a veritable explosion of activity – and disaster – in December. It ranked only slightly below Tesla High's science fair as far as Jo's informal list of potential disasters went, and that was saying something.
So when Jo and Zoe stepped into the café that morning, the majority of the customers inside did not turn their heads upon hearing the tinkling little bell from over the café door (that was, of course, assuming the sound registered for them at all). Even Vincent was distracted, absorbed in the legal pad where he was scribbling his latest inspiration in holiday fare. A batch of spiced pumpkin muffins accompanied the rest of his "Muffin Mondays" display, standing testament to his last venture into the world of holiday-themed foodstuff. As he scribbled, he glanced up long enough to note there were newly arrived customers by the counter, then turned back to his legal pad. As he crossed some t's and dotted a few i's, very nearly on autopilot, some distant region of his brain registered what his conscious mind had missed. His head snapped back up, quite abruptly.
"Zoe?" He said, eyes widening in surprise. "And Jo?" Zoe and Jo exchanged an amused glance, waiting for Vincent to process his words. Vincent flushed a little.
"Not that it's strange to see you together, of course, Jo and Zoe, Zoe and Jo…" he trailed off. As he processed the big reconciliation, Jo stepped closer, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Hey, Vincent, we're just going to need something quick to go, I have to get in to the office…" Man-made tornadoes, whether deliberate or accidental, entailed rather a lot of paperwork, after all. But Vincent wasn't listening anymore. As Jo had stepped forward, the morning light illuminated the curve of her belly, making Vincent's eyes widen in shock. His mouth formed a silent "o" of surprise, and for a moment he was totally speechless. Nervous though she was, Jo couldn't entirely restrain an amused grin. She'd never seen Vincent so at a loss for words.
"I…you…oh my god!" Vincent's voice rang out across the café and Jo flinched, though she'd been expecting it. The eyes which before had been affixed to test results and grant proposals were now glued to the drama taking place at the front of the café. Behind Jo, the bell signaling the opening of the café door chimed, but Jo's eyes remained fixed on Vincent.
"Oh my god," he repeated. Zoe snickered from where she stood a few steps behind Jo.
"I think you broke him," she said in a stage whisper. Vincent pulled his eyes from Jo's waistline to her face.
"Con-congratulations!" He stammered out. "I mean, to you and, uh, you and Zane." He managed to resist voicing the questions written all over his face, his eyes widening suddenly at something behind Jo.
"Why, thank you, Vincent," Zane's voice purred behind her, making her startle where she stood. Next to her, Zoe was suspiciously unsurprised. Vincent glanced between Jo and Zane excitedly, clapping his hands once and rubbing them together with excitement.
"Champagne on the house, in honor of the parents-to-be!" He called out, rushing behind the counter.
"Everything's on the house, Vincent," someone shouted from the back of the café. Vincent waved a dismissing hand as he stepped into the walk-in fridge. Jo braced herself and turned to face Zane. When he looked at her, his face was carefully blank.
"What are you doing here?" She asked in an undertone.
"I meant it when I said I had your back," he said in a low voice, his eyes never leaving hers. Jo swallowed hard, involuntarily. She opened her mouth to say something, but Vincent's reappearance interrupted her.
"Champagne for the guests of honor – sparkling cider for our mother-to-be, of course," Vincent amended. Jo fixed a smile on her face and accepted her cider gracefully, trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach as she watched Zane. Next to her, Zoe turned to face the café and raised her own glass of sparkling cider.
"I'd like to propose a toast to the parents-to-be – may this baby be just as bullheaded as both her parents." She said, grinning.
"Thanks," muttered Jo sarcastically as much of the room raised their champagne for the toast.
"Hey, I call it like I see it," Zoe shrugged.
Jo sipped her sparkling cider slowly – though her bouts of nausea had for the most part been restricted to her first trimester, sparkling cider on an empty stomach this early in the morning was just begging for trouble, pregnancy or not – and surveyed the well-wishers before her. Some of the customers with whom Jo was familiar looked as if they were considering coming over for an in-person congratulations, but Jo could tell the forbidding stare Zane was currently sporting behind her was likely to warn them off. In any other situation, Jo might have given Zane a piece of her mind for usurping control of the situation from her, but in that particular moment all she could seem to feel was relieved that she had a reprieve. Zoe seemed to have noticed his stare as well, causing her to lean in toward Jo and whisper.
"Well, you're all set if you have a girl – he's got the intimidating father stare down pat. Trust me, I would know." She finished, rolling her eyes. Jo's lips twitched with suppressed humor.
"Zo, I hate to break it to you, but your dad is about as intimidating as a koala. Lucas was intimidated because he genuinely cared about you and he knew how important your dad is to you." Zane leaned forward and Jo froze as his hot breath brushed the back of her neck.
"I can hear you, you know," he informed them under his breath. Zoe was the one to respond.
"Oh, we know," she replied cheerily. "Don't care." Zane pulled away, but Jo could feel his breath linger there, could sense his presence behind her even though he stood a good half foot away. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet.
"Vincent," she called out suddenly, "can I get one of those spiced pumpkin muffins to go? I really do need to get to the office," she added apologetically. Vincent turned to face her, looking surprised.
"Of course, of course," he said, hustling over to the counter to retrieve a muffin, Jo and Zoe following. Zane stayed behind, his gaze following them closely. When Zoe had called that morning, Zane had been skeptic.
"Hello?" He answered groggily, glancing at the clock radio on his bedside table. It was not yet seven.
"Hey, Zane!" chirped an overly enthusiastic Zoe Carter from the other end of the line.
"Uh, hey, Zoe," he mumbled, perplexed and wanting badly to shove his face back into his pillow.
"Listen, Jo's doing the big reveal today at Café Diem – you know, maternity clothes, shocking Vincent, the works – you should go. She'll get there around 8:30, I think." Zane processed this information more slowly than usual, his brain still addled with sleep. They'd talked before about what they'd do when this day came, of course, but that had been before things fell apart during Thanksgiving. He'd always planned to be with her, though Jo had never asked him. Her words from Thanksgiving still echoed through his head – he knew, now, that he wasn't the person she'd wanted there with her. Of course, he could hardly explain that to Zoe.
"Look, Zoe, I don't think…" But the little Carter had cut him off.
"No, you look. I'm not crazy about the way you've handled things with me, but I'm going to let it go, because I'm happy for Jo. But no way in hell are you're going to ruin this for her by sulking. She needs you. Be there, or I'll know why!" She slammed the phone back down on the receiver before he could reply, leaving him wide awake and listening to the dial tone.
Zane lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. "She needs you," Zoe said, and it had sounded like the truth. He supposed it was the truth, as Zoe knew it. But it was someone else that Jo needed, someone who didn't exist anymore. Except… he sat up suddenly as a thought came to him. Except there was that long ago day when he'd tested his limits. Such a small thing – drink preferences. Scarcely worth consideration by any but the most desperate of men. He'd known without asking, once, how she would want her tea. And there had been other times, times when he'd been able to read her better than he had any right to do. Moments of déjà vu. The mind was a mysterious thing, after all, and the universe was full of infinite possibilities for a physicist such as himself. With the right tools, perhaps he could crack through that seemingly impenetrable wall.
Perhaps he could be the man she deserved, after all.
Ahead of him, Zoe and Jo moved towards the door of the café, Jo now carrying both a muffin and a smoothie, making Zane smile slightly. No doubt Vincent had been scandalized by the thought of sending a pregnant customer away with only a muffin larger than Zane's fist. Jo cast a glance back at him and the smile slid off his face, pain lancing through him when he saw her uncertain expression. He watched them move past the window of the café before he propelled himself away from the table and headed for the door, saying nothing to Vincent as he sailed by him.
Outside, it was a cold, grey morning which fit his mood perfectly. He had just reached his motorcycle when he realized Jo and Zoe had paused just around the corner of the building. Zane hesitated, standing next to his bike.
"I have an appointment with Allison later," Jo was admitting.
"Is she going to tell you the sex of the baby?" Zoe asked excitedly. Even from a distance, Zane caught the flash of amusement on Jo's face.
"If I decide I want to know," Jo said archly. The two began walking again.
"But Jo, of course you have to find out! Don't you want to start planning…" Zoe's voice faded away, and any response Jo might have made was drowned out by the silence they left behind as they rounded the corner of the building.
Zane stayed a minute longer, processing their words. Jo's appointment with Allison – he'd realized before it was sometime this week, of course. They'd spoken about it before Thanksgiving, though Jo had never suggested he come and he had never asked. She hadn't seemed to fix much importance to it at all, in fact. He would never have guessed that this would be the appointment in which she'd first have the opportunity to learn the baby's sex. He would never have guessed how badly he would want to know. He turned the information over in his mind, weighing his options.
Then he started his motorcycle. It looked like he had a busy day ahead, after all – and it was time he got working.
The morning started quietly at GD, though Zane found himself on autopilot for much of the morning. The events of the past week were cycling persistently through his head. Jo regretted what she had said at Thanksgiving, that much had been increasingly clear after her apology when he'd dutifully dropped her off at home that night. Her behavior in Cafe Diem had only reinforced his awareness of the fact.
But Zane had also seen the look in her eyes that night. For just a moment, before she'd had time to think about the words, she had meant it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Jo was very aware that he wasn't the man she wanted him to be. Would never be the man she wanted him to be. And it hurt. For him it stung, but for her it ached somewhere deep inside, ate at her a little every day. And Zane suspected that it would never end, that it would always be there between them, that every time she saw that child she would think of an eternally absent father. Unless he did something about it. He wasn't sure what he could do about it, of course, only that he had to try.
He'd only been in his lab for a few hours when Grace arrived. He eyed Dr. Monroe curiously. Grace was the only other person from the new timeline whose life had been thrown into disarray when the truth had come out, but they hadn't spoken much since the day he and Jo had confronted the rest of their little conspiracy with the news. He'd wondered, from time to time, how Grace and Henry's marriage was weathering the revelation of the timeline change – he had certainly noted their absence from Carter's Thanksgiving dinner.
"Zane, hi," she greeted, friendly and professional as always. "I was hoping I might be able to get a hand with some programming." He pushed back his chair from the desk and swirled around to face her fully, leaning back and stretching his linked hands behind his head.
"What did you have in mind?" Zane asked, curious. Grace stopped in front of him.
"Henry may have mentioned my current project? I've been working on a prototype for a PTSD therapy device which enables the patient to share memories with his therapist. The device itself could be ready for preliminary stages of human testing in a few months but I've been trying to develop a computer platform to maintain and analyze the data. Unfortunately, the deadline for my preliminary testing proposal is coming up with the end of the year. I could use an extra hand."
Zane was silent, his mind swift mind already racing forward, weighing his options, measuring all the angles. A memory sharing device - could that be the simple solution to an admittedly complex problem? If Jo would only share her memories with him... but even as he considered it, Zane knew it couldn't be that easy. He needed something else, something... more. He needed to know what the old Zane had known, to remember what the old Zane had experienced. Second-hand memories would never be enough, not for him and not for Jo. But... perhaps Grace's device could be tweaked, altered. How many hundreds of projects were currently active in GD? How many had long since been scrapped, leaving valuable materials behind to languish in the vast storage vaults? Surely there was something he could adapt, something he could use, something which could bridge the gaps of time and space itself...
Zane's mind never stopped as it barreled forward, but he managed to direct some of his focus to Grace herself.
"I'd be glad to help," he said abruptly. Grace bestowed a beatific smile upon him.
"Why thank you, Zane," she responded warmly. "It's good to have someone I can count on." Zane smiled wryly. It was good to hear his efforts acknowledged, though he doubted her gratefulness would last him for very long if she knew his intentions. He wished that, just for once, he might get the same acknowledgment from Jo.
"I'd love to see the specs, if you've got the time." Zane suggested.
"Well how about you come right on down to my lab and I can show you around," Grace offered."Unless you're too busy, of course," she added. Zane flashed his most charming smile at her, which for once was not lacking in sincerity.
"That would be perfect."
Zane's mind was working furiously as he left Grace's lab later that afternoon. The prototype had promise; he'd known it as soon as Grace had demonstrated the memory sharing capabilities of her neural network and he'd been hit with a vivid recollection of his first week in Eureka from Grace's perspective. (It had been comforting to remember that he was not, in fact, the only person left in town who remembered the week as he did, however it might seem these days.) If he could only tweak it to access the memories he'd lost to the vagaries of time and space. But he thought he had a line on that possibility, as well.
"...just saw Lupo down in the infirmary, getting checked out by Dr. Blake... Rob says she was getting an ultrasound, can you believe it? Looks like Donovan knocked her up." Zane barely managed to restrain himself from whipping around to glare at the man behind him. With a colossal effort, he managed to keep his mouth shut and his ears perked, for which he was rewarded.
"Yeah, well, good for him. At least someone in this godforsaken place is getting some." His companion responded, sounding as if he spoke from personal experience.
"The Sheriff sure is," the first man sneered.
"Rob hear anything else?" His companion asked.
"Just that the Enforcer didn't care to find out the gender. God only knows what she'll do with a baby anyways..." The man trailed off, his ribald laughter echoing down the corridor as they turned into another hallway behind Zane, whose silent fury shifted smoothly to regret with the man's final words. Jo, Zane knew, was going to be an incredible mother. In part, this was why Jo's behavior on Thanksgiving, which had been cavalier merging on self-destructive, had been so distressing for him. In so many ways she had been acting like a mother already. Her disregard for her own safety that night seemed to directly countermand the depth of concern for her child that had driven her to seek this arrangement in the first place. How she could be so prescient about future disasters yet so neatly disregard the dangers waiting just outside the door? If Jo would only let him in, listen to him – but she either wouldn't or couldn't, which either way was something Zane was starting to realize he would have to fix. Fortunately, Grace had inadvertently provided him with a tool to do just that. There was just one other thing he would need, but Zane had to admit, he didn't like it, not in the least.
Zane had never thought much of the Akashic Field Theory, but on his trip down to GD'S massive storage rooms, he thought about it a very great deal indeed. He'd been reminded of it during his interlude with Grace earlier, when they'd shared a memory of his early days in Eureka.
Any number of things had surprised Zane about Eureka, starting with its existence in the first place (he'd never realized his government could be so ballsy, for one), the level of technological advancement, so far beyond the rest of the world - even, god help him, the close-knit community (something that had appealed to him for the five minutes before they'd all summarily rejected him).
Zane had never enjoyed going into a situation blind, and he had been forced into it by his transfer to Eureka. So he'd spent his early weeks playing catch up, goading Fargo into revealing bits and pieces of the puzzle of Nathan Stark and his death while scoping out the citizens of Eureka. When he'd finally managed to parse out the mystery that was Nathan Stark's death, Zane had been faintly disappointed. Oh, the means itself was fascinating - how often do people become untethered from time and space, after all? (Though before he'd passed even half a year in Eureka, Zane had already begun to suspect the answer was: more frequently than you'd think.) Either way, Stark had obviously been a scientific visionary. That he'd sacrificed himself for love of family and friends had struck Zane as - well, a waste, which was only reinforced as he became more familiar with said friends and family.
Zane had never met Nathan Stark, of course - had after all been paroled as a direct result of his death, when he was called in to work on the data from the Big Bang project that was based on his own theoretical work - but the first thing he noticed was that the Director of GD had his hands in a lot of pies. Zane's work was neither his only nor his most preferred project, though it had been given a great deal of funding and attention. Stark had a fascination - a fixation, some might say, and unbecoming of a scientist - on the Akashic field, though the object of his most intense focus had always been the Artifact which he believed to be linked to it. That fascination had gotten him in trouble, from time to time, but it had also informed the bulk of the research that went on in his time as Director of GD. It was this research that now had Zane on his foolhardy quest to the storage vaults of GD, and Zane was more than a little dismayed by the implications.
That he was now about to make a sacrifice not unlike Nathan Stark's, on behalf of one Josafina Lupo, using the remains of one of Stark's pet projects, no less - well, the irony wasn't lost on Zane. He'd thought himself so clever back then, and yet it had taken so little to prove him wrong. A few unexpected smiles, a familiar engagement ring and a tiny ball of cells with half his DNA and here he was. Apparently some things really were worth it.
Zane stopped in front of the doors to the storage vaults, hands tucked in the front pockets of his jeans. Fortunately for him, with Jo no longer playing the Enforcer his activity was not as closely monitored as it had been, and the head of GD's storage vaults was notoriously inattentive to the political realities of working at GD, existing in his own little bubble. Odds were, he would pay Zane little mind at all.
Zane swiped his access card reluctantly, not wanting to leave an electronic trail but not seeing a way around it - after the incident with Fargo's growing forcefield, security had been ramped up in the vaults. He would just have to hope nobody noticed and investigated the theft before he had a chance to make his move.
Zane nodded at the person at the front desk - an intern, he noted - then moved purposefully to the chemistry department's section of the vaults. He browsed carefully, keeping an eye always on the intern manning the desk, hyperaware of the security cameras trained on him, until he found what he was looking for. Lysergic acid diethylamide - LSD. Despite being relatively harmless, as drugs went, it was still something Zane would never want to get his hands on in normal circumstances. Zane prized his mind above all else, or had until now, and the fact that his plan was dependent on a brain-altering drug - well, he'd be lying if he said he liked the thought, even a little.
Stark hadn't just limited himself to researching the link between the Artifact and the Akashic field, but had branched out to other methods of tapping into the field, one of which was, farfetched as it sounded, LSD exposure. The results had been inconclusive for any number of reasons, Zane supposed, but his suspicion was that with Grace's PTSD device to direct the activity of his neural network, he'd have a better chance of success. If it weren't for the stories he still heard about Carl Carlson, he'd have written the whole thing off as a fairytale, himself.
Of course, all this would require an incredibly high dose of LSD, one which meant the unusually high LD-50 of the drug would not protect him from the risk of an overdose. It would be a risky procedure - it had been, in Stark's experimental trials, and expensive to boot, which was why after his death the experimental teams had been disbanded and the remains of those experiments had been exiled to these shelves.
Despite all this - all his reservations, his concern, and a healthy dose of fear to boot - Zane, to his credit, managed to swipe a sizable portion of the LSD from the shelf where it had been stacked in neatly wrapped bricks and continue casually through the chemistry section to the lower level where storage for the physics department resided. There he collected his decoy item - something large and relatively harmless for his lab - which he signed out and carried past the intern back on the upper level with a friendly nod. With any luck, all that the intern would remember would be the sizeable piece of equipment he'd taken and forget the face that had gone with it entirely, though of course the level of notoriety Zane had amassed in Eureka made that doubtful.
The doors slid shut behind him where he stood in the hallway outside the vault and he gave a short sigh of relief, the hitherto unnoticed tension in his shoulders relaxing as he strode through the hallway. Now all he would need to do would be to 'borrow' an IV line and some saline when the day came - not to mention Grace's device - and his scheme would be good to go. He'd expected to feel some kind of victory when he'd finally come up with a solution to this problem, but as it turned out, all he really felt was empty. Giving up your very reality - and, from a certain point of view, your own existence - was a heavy price to pay for doing the right thing.
It had been a long day, and it only seemed to be getting longer as Zane slipped inconspicuously through the empty halls of GD. After the lunch hour he'd spent at the cabin, he'd returned to work, though his energy was already lagging.
Now it was officially past closing, and only a few preoccupied scientists and the skeleton crew of nighttime staff haunted GD's halls. Zane had been biding his time for this moment. He slipped around the next corner and into another hallway smoothly. Unlike earlier that afternoon, Zane's excursion to the infirmary would stick out on GD's surveillance system. Fortunately, any penalties for what he was about to do here were likely to be mediated by the circumstances. Though, he thought, smiling ruefully to himself as he stepped into the infirmary, nothing would protect him from Allison if she found out - certainly not Eureka's law enforcement personnel, one of whom was her boyfriend and the other who, if his prior experience was at all valid, might actually eviscerate him if she discovered the intrusion into her personal files.
He hadn't really planned on this at the beginning of his day, but it seemed that everything had been leading up to this moment from the minute he'd received that phone call. It had been hanging at the back of his mind since he'd overheard Zoe's conversation with Jo, and Zane thought he might have been able to ignore the possibility which lay before him if it hadn't been for his second overheard conversation that day, far less pleasant but no less tempting in its content. It wasn't until after his trip to GD's storage vaults that Zane had made up his mind. There was really no going back from the actions he'd taken in the vault, actions which it was only a matter of time before someone discovered. Afterwards he'd sat in the cabin he'd been renovating for them – for Jo, for his child – and eaten lunch, and thought to himself with a calm that had surprised him, I need to know who I'm doing this for. When he was done eating he'd packed up the remnants of his lunch, climbed onto his motorcycle, and returned to GD to prepare himself for this moment.
Zane stopped in front of the access keypad for the infirmary door, which had long since been locked to allow only emergency personnel and the cleaning crew, and dug into his pocket for his screwdriver. He slid the fine tip beneath the keypad, leveraging it delicately until he had the keypad lifted into the slim margin between high enough to activate the alarm and too low to disable it. Once he had disabled the wire for the alarm, a few adjustments were all it took for the door to glide open quietly.
Zane stepped into the infirmary confidently, knowing that after Eva Thorne's arrival on the scene at GD and her subsequent worship by the soon-to-be dictator Fargo, the cameras in the inactive, less sensitive regions of GD were deactivated when the facility closed for the night, as a 'cost-saving' measure. Zane personally doubted that the current policy saved anyone money; the absence of camera documentation in the initial phases of a classic Eureka disaster really only served to extend the amount of time necessary to identify the origin of said disaster - the few additional hours inevitably increasing the amount of cleanup to be done.
Zane activated the computer complex at the central rotunda and pulled up a chair to wait, remembering to note carefully from whence it had come. The computer seemed to take an eternity to boot - in spite of all the advanced technology at GD, some things simply couldn't be worked around. Zane passed the time tapping his fingers rhythmically against the sleek countertop, staring absently at the screen. When the login screen appeared, he moved swiftly, plugging in the portable hard drive he'd repurposed and reprogrammed for such tasks. His program popped up on the screen and he began typing furiously in order to pierce, rather than tear through, the safeguards on the data within.
His typing slowed as he slipped through the last of the network's defenses and began to parse through the patient names impatiently. Everyone in Eureka had been to the infirmary at least once in every year, infirmary being something of a misnomer for this hub of GD which covered everything from yearly check-ups to emergency surgeries and EMT work.
Zane hesitated when he reached Jo's name, hands hovering over the keyboard. Finally he reached out and pressed enter, his gaze holding a hint of reservation as Jo's file appeared on the screen. Zane, knowing instinctively that even now there were certain lines that shouldn't be crossed, shied away from the patient history at the forefront of the chart. Jo had never spoken about her time in the special forces - perhaps because she had felt, as Zane did, that her scars did all the talking for her. If she ever found out what he was doing, he wanted his motives to be above question - though he'd be lying if he denied wondering on occasion whether her military histories differed between the timelines. In any case, that was not a question to which an answer could be found in any GD database, and so Zane moved forward, selecting the most recent file from the bunch.
Zane read the page carefully. Allison's notes were, unsurprisingly, full of medical terminology - which was far from being Zane's specialty. It was in her summary where Allison broke out of her abbreviations and medical terms into a more colloquial description of the appointment. Both her affection for and frustration with her recalcitrant patient shone through the screen.
The patient's stats are down slightly from our last appointment, but remain within normal parameters. Her stress level remains high, which is reflected by her elevated blood pressure. Urinary protein levels remain low, however, should continue to monitor for indications of preeclampsia. Fetal heartbeat is normal. Both mother and daughter appear to be healthy at this time, though the patient has requested the baby's sex remain a surprise.
Zane sat back heavily on the chair, letting out an involuntary gust of breath, his eyes fixed on the screen. Mother and daughter. They were having a girl. He had a daughter. His eyes slid to the top of the note, where a file was affixed. He clicked, curious, and a video clip appeared on the screen. As it began to play, an unfamiliar whooshing sound filled the room. It took a moment for the sound to register, and when it did, his breath caught. It was, of course, Jo's sonogram -and that was the baby's heartbeat.
A faint sound from the hallway drew Zane's attention away from the screen and he tensed, turning off the video quickly and waiting apprehensively for the doors to slide open. He'd put the keypad back into its place, of course, but the effort had been haphazard at best, and the alarm would still need to be rewired before he left. Between his tinkering with the keypad and the sound of the sonogram, it would be easy for someone to guess something was amiss in the infirmary.
The moment passed, the sound dissipating into the night without any further incident, and Zane's shoulders slumped in relief. Now more than ever, he hoped for his actions this evening to go unnoticed. He shut down the computer terminal quickly, resisting the urge to marvel once more at the sound of that heartbeat, collecting his tools before he stopped at the sliding doors of the infirmary to listen intently. When he'd planned this he'd considered tapping into the video surveillance feed covering the hallway, but had ultimately recognized that an attempt on the video surveillance would be treated as a much greater breach of GD's security by the Department of Defense if he were caught electronically. As it was now, the DoD wouldn't be pleased, but a mere invasion of medical records was more likely to be treated as the inappropriate result of a domestic spat than a breach of security, especially in the circumstances inherent to Eureka - regardless of the strict HIPAA laws which prevailed in the rest of the country.
Still, given that General Mansfield had it out for him, Zane would do better to avoid being caught at all, and the noise at the door had made him nervous. He hesitated for a long while before he activated the remote control he'd arranged on the hacked keypad and the door slid open. To his relief, the hallway was empty, and he quickly set to work on the keypad. All the while, in the back of his mind he could still hear that soft whoosh-whoosh,like the soundtrack of his new life. It took Zane only a few minutes to repair the alarm system, and soon he had shut down his lab for the night and made his way out of the building.
He didn't realize he'd made the decision to go to Jo until he was already halfway to her place, and when he did, Zane was less surprised than he would have thought. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recognized that this had been inevitable since he'd seen her in Cafe Diem that morning, and perhaps even before that. Because he was in love with Josefina Lupo in a way that was both unstoppable and irrevocable, the only thing he remained certain of in a world where everything he thought he knew about himself and his life had been torn out from under his feet. And he was going to throw it all to the wind, his whole life included, for the sliver of hope that some other Zane could do right by her.
He was a damned fool.
Jo was sprawled on the couch, her exhaustion seemingly bone-deep and insurmountable. There was an empty platter on the coffee table in front of her, with only a few stray crackers and crumbs of cheese remaining. She'd come home from GD and made a beeline for the couch, getting up only to retrieve said platter and make the occasional bathroom run.
After the overwhelming start to her morning, Jo had expected GD to be peaceful in comparison. Her days were, after all, limited to paperwork and supervision of her security team. And the day started quietly enough. Her appointment with Allison had been at 10:30, quick and easy. Allison had assured her that all was well with the baby - had indeed offered to tell her the baby's sex, just as Zoe had predicted. It wasn't until afterwards, as the gossip spread from Cafe Diem through GD that Jo began to feel uncomfortable, first with the curious stares and then with the forthright questions. It wasn't until one woman actually touched Jo's stomach that she finally hid in her office and locked the door. She'd fled the building the moment office hours were over, for once thanking her lucky stars that she wasn't wanted for anything more strenuous than paperwork and could therefore flee at will.
Her stop at Cafe Diem that evening hadn't been much better than the day that preceded it, however, and Jo had decided the better part of valor would be to make a retreat from all the hubbub and speculation. Which is why, when the knock on her door came, Jo startled in her seat and looked at the door like a deer in headlights. If the well-wishes and spectators were coming to her door now, she was going to say to hell with Allison's rules and recommendations, grab her tent (badly in need of a christening, in any case, as the replacement for the one she'd lost in the explosion) and make a run for the woods around Eureka. Alone and pregnant in the woods of Oregon was starting to hold a certain appeal.
Groaning, Jo stood and approached her front door.
"I reserve the right to shoot you if I decide you're wasting my - " the door swung open to reveal Zane " - time," she finished, staring at him in disbelief. "Zane?" She asked hesitantly, stepping closer.
"Jo," he acknowledged, thumbs wrapped casually in his belt straps and a tiny, ironic smile playing on his face. He stepped into her living room, closing the door behind him. A moment passed and neither of them moved, eyes locked, and then -
Zane's lips crashed into Jo's as he pulled her into her arms. Instantly Jo forgot all about her exhaustion, pressing her body flush against his and wrapping her arms around his neck. His kisses were intense in their focus, causing Jo to pull back with a breathy little laugh.
"Zane," she said, half-protesting, half-amused. "Don't you think that - "
"Nope," he interrupted before pulling her into another searing kiss.
"But shouldn't we - " Jo began again.
"Nope," he murmured, tugging her toward the bedroom. This time, she couldn't bring herself to pull away.
They crashed their way across the living room, bumping into one of Jo's couches and coming a hair's breadth away from knocking over a nearby lamp. Leaning against the couch, Jo pulled back just far enough to mutter "You break it, you buy it," against the corner of Zane's mouth. In response, he slipped a hand beneath the hem of her shirt and pulled it swiftly over her head.
"I'll buy you a hundred - fucking - lamps - if I - have to," he smirked, pressing kisses down the curve of her neck. He was about to reach for the clasp at the front of her bra, his hand skimming the smooth expanse of her waist, when he processed his own words and froze momentarily as he remembered that if all went well, he would be unable to make good on that promise himself. Jo caught his flinch of hesitation.
"Zane?" She inquired, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek with a hint of concern. "What is it?" Zane rallied, shaking off his momentary preoccupation and forcing himself to smile.
"Nothing," he said, letting his gaze drift lower, to the swell of her abdomen which was so prominent now, laid bare to him as she was. "You're beautiful," he told her, and meant it. Jo bit her lip in that way he knew she had when she felt uncertain.
"Thank you," she said softly, hazel eyes wide and expressive. Zane stepped close, sliding his hands down the gradually changing contours of her body, one hand slipping further to caress the firm expanse of skin stretching out below her belly button. His was unreadable, his eyes dark, and he said nothing as he pressed closer to her, but when he lowered his lips back to hers there was a hunger there that couldn't be disguised. Jo tilted her head back, moaning slightly into his mouth in a way that made him tighten his grip involuntarily, though the sound was swallowed by their embrace.
Zane pulled back, groaning.
"Bedroom," he said emphatically. Jo flashed him a mischievous smile.
"What, a big strong man like yourself can't handle me right here?" She asked him tauntingly, pouting her lips in a teasing moue and tossing her silky hair back, tousled as it was. Zane pressed in close, his mouth only a breath away as he leaned in.
"Is that what you want from me, Jo-Jo?" He asked, his eyes flashing a stormy blue. "You want me fast and hard, so close you can hardly breathe, right up against this couch? Or," he paused, his eyes fixing hungrily on her mouth as Jo licked her lips reflexively. "Did you want me long and slow and leisurely on your bed?"
"They, ah, both sound acceptable," she said in a breathy little voice. Zane pulled back an inch, smirking.
"Your opinion will be taken under advisement, of course," he remarked offhandedly, and in one smooth motion scooped her from the back of the couch and into his arms.
"Zane," Jo exclaimed, in the closest to a girly shriek she was likely to come.
"Nuh-uh, Jo-Jo. My show tonight." He teased her, his face half buried in her hair as he maneuvered his way into the bedroom. "Besides, I am so not propping you and that baby up over the back of the couch. It's hardly safe."
"Zane!" She said again, this time exasperated. He lay her on the bed with care, propping himself above her. The soft look in his eyes, just barely visible in the half light, left her suddenly quiet, holding her breath involuntarily. He reached out a callused hand to run down the length of her face, brushing a few stray hairs back into place with a gentleness that nearly brought tears to her eyes. She pressed her lips together tightly, until they were reduced to a thin white line as she steeled herself against the emotion. Jo pulled his face to hers, the darkness of the room hiding the extent of her suppressed emotions.
By the time he pulled away, she had already deftly opened the clasp of her bra and banished it to the floor, the delicate engagement ring on its fine gold chain now the only thing that remained, nestled between her breasts. Zane smiled knowingly at it, as one might greet an old friend, before dedicated himself to the thorough worship of her breasts - which, it hadn't escaped him, were softer and fuller every week. And sensitive: within seconds he had garnered a gasp and a sigh of pleasure.
Thus encouraged, Zane made short order of his own shirt, shedding it carelessly and tossing somewhere on the floor even as he applied himself to the removal of Jo's pants with due diligence.
Once Jo's pants were lost to the floor as well, Zane rocked back on his heels to appreciate his handiwork, his breath catching in his chest when he saw her. Jo was propped on her elbows, her long black hair spilling over her shoulders and the pillows, smooth as water; a tiny smile playing over her lips like the cat that ate the cream. She caught his hesitation and arched an eyebrow.
"Are you coming back, or am I going solo tonight?" She asked teasingly, shifting to glide one hand down the smooth expanse of her abdomen. His eyes widened, then narrowed.
"Maybe some other time, sweetheart," he purred. "But tonight you're all mine," he informed her, removing his already unbuttoned jeans swiftly, followed by his boxers, never taking his eyes off her. He added them to the growing collection of discarded clothes before climbing back onto the bed. Zane brushed a hand over her core with a forced air of idleness, making her shudder and arch against his hand. He inhaled sharply - God, she was so wet, and he felt, absurdly, like he might die of wanting her. Then he remembered that he very well might die for it, and it was a sobering thought. Tonight, damn it, he was going to be selfish. He was going to love her for who he was, right then and there, not who he might have been or who he perhaps could be. He thought he deserved that, at the very least. He hoped he did.
It was with that thought that he slipped away the last barrier between them - amusingly enough a simple pair of cotton panties - pressing a firm kiss to the mound of skin beneath and making Jo arch against him almost desperately.
"For the love of God, Zane," she pled, but he ignored her as he pressed a path upwards, trailing hot, wet kisses up her pelvic bone to the rounded expanse of flesh that was her belly, swollen with their child (and it was theirs, would always be theirs, in spite of what common sense and reason and physics said was possible). For a moment, all he could hear was that whoosh-whoosh from Allison's files. He pressed a lingering kiss just over her belly button, something prickling the corner of his eyes. Jo inhaled sharply, but he couldn't meet her eyes, afraid to see what might be written there. Instead he continued to traverse his path, following the fine line of downy hairs that interrupted the smooth expanse of her abdomen up to the valley between her breasts, unable to resist the urge to take a deep breath as he did, her scent - so uniquely Jo, the codominance of lemon and gunpowder making him smile - filling his lungs, outweighing all his senses and making his mind fuzzy while his blood pounded in his ears. He pressed soft kisses here, mindful of her increased sensitivity to touch.
Finally he reached her throat, where her pulse was leaping from his touch. He gave her pulse point a deft, playful lick. Jo made a strangled noise and he paused to give her a warm, languorous smile. When their eyes met, hers were rendered coffee-black with desire. She growled at him, conveying her meaning wordlessly but with great effect. Zane raised his eyebrows, affecting nonchalance with no little effort.
"As you wish," he said mildly, then grinned, sliding his body over hers purposefully. He nipped her neck mischievously as he slipped inside her, making her gasp and arch her back as she wrapped her arms around him. For a long, tortuous moment he paused, wanting to save the moment and make it last.
Jo squirmed beneath him, eager and anxious after the days they'd spent apart, missing him and still searching for the words that might make it all okay. But Zane stilled her without a word, reaching down to cup her face and kiss her sweetly, leaving her with her lips parted and breathless as he began moving with agonizing slowness. Jo clutched a fist in his hair, almost whimpering with the exquisite torment of it.
"Zane, please," she breathed, almost shattering the last of his restraint as he began to speed up, each slide forward coming a little faster and lasting a little longer than the previous one until Zane himself could take it no longer and buried his face on Jo's neck, nipping her sharply and losing what vestiges of control still remained. In return, Jo cried out wordlessly and clutched sharply at his back, leaving red little crescent-moon marks on the smooth skin between his shoulder blades. Zane melted into her, feeling boneless and Jo struggled to catch her breath in the aftermath.
A long moment passed before either of them could muster the presence of mind to move, though finally Zane managed to recall dimly in the back of his mind that oxygen was important and pulled back to lay beside Jo and let her breathe. He curled onto his side next to her and tangled a questing hand in her hair, feeling surprisingly content. Tomorrow. He would think about it tomorrow. For now, this was all that mattered.
Disclaimer: I don't own Eureka. But I am so, so excited for it to air tonight.
A/N: YES! YES! I finished the chapter in time for the premiere! I am SO pleased with myself right now, and it's a good thing too, because people will be showing up to watch it in barely an hour and a half. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, there was a lot to get through - lots of important information, and oh, yeah, Zane is being an idiot. He was always going to be an idiot about this. I've been trying to warn you this would happen for many chapters now, haha. In case you were wondering, the thing with the LSD (yes, it sounds absurdly farfetched, but so is the whole concept of the Akashic field as far as I'm concerned. Theoretical physics type stuff is so strange. Give me cells, any day. Um, anyways it was inspired by Fringe's use of LSD to access an alternate universe... and the CIA's supposed experimentation on using LSD for mind control which also when you write it down sounds insane.) Also, I know nothing about hacking except what I've watched them do on television, but, ah... I was a little nervous about doing a computer search for that one. Kind of asking for it, don't you think?
ADM