And Done

Jo stared up at Zane, her dark eyes wide and worried. "Did that just—"

Zane couldn't resist. He grabbed. Hands on her shoulders, he tugged her toward him, bending his head to take her mouth with desperate ferocity. But when she kissed him back, mouth opening under his, lips softening, his kiss gentled, searching, exploring.

He couldn't really know the taste of her, the smell, the feel—he'd only kissed her once before. But just like that first time, she melted into him as if she belonged there. They fit together like puzzles pieces, connecting with a click and a lock, everything right, everything the way it was meant to be.

He slid his hands up into her hair, feeling for the hair tie, tugging it loose. He didn't mess with girls' hair usually—why risk an inadvertent painful pull that could break the mood? But he wanted to touch Jo's hair, wanted the smooth silk to flow around them, wanted to feel the soft tickle when he buried himself in her warmth.

"Stop, stop," she muttered, small hands pushing at his chest.

He let her go, his heart pounding in his chest, his body wanting her so much it hurt. Twenty-four hours. That's all they had.

"We have to—" She paused, drawing in deep gulps of air, as if her heart raced as fast as his. "We have to find out what's changed. We don't have a lot of time."

He cupped her cheek. "One day. One whole day. And then we forget and we're back where we were four days ago. I think you're crazy and you think I'm an asshole. In twenty-four hours, you're going to be pretending I don't exist. So let's not waste the moment."

She half-chuckled. "Is that why you wanted more time?"

"No." He shook his head. "I've got to get to S.A.R.A.H. and install the program we created. It's the key. But Jo—tomorrow we go back to where we were. Me not knowing why you had my grandmother's ring, you ignoring me."

She turned her head and nipped his palm. "Today doesn't exist? Is that what you're saying?"

"Something like that," he whispered, his voice husky with yearning. He didn't know what the future would bring. He hoped, he believed, but hell, if they'd gotten it wrong, Jo might never speak to him again. If they'd screwed up somehow, anything could happen. This moment might never come again.

"Then let's make the most of it." She reached up and pulled his head down toward her and gladly, gladly, he let her take the lead. Her hands were everywhere, slim fingers sliding across bare skin, yanking his t-shirt up, his pants down. He was kicking off his shoes, scooting out of his jeans, stripping her out of hers, all without ever letting their lip-lock break.

Hell. She was so hot. Literally. And figuratively. And theoretically. All the ways one could be hot, Jo was hot. Her skin was burning up under his touch and his was burning under hers.

And then it was over. Gasping for air, she rolled away from him, her arm coming up to cross over her chest.

"No," he protested, his voice barely a whisper. He was replete, satisfied, but not ready to let her go. The sweat was cooling on his skin, damp on hers, but he wanted more.

"Just wondering whether this room has a security feed," she whispered, rolling back onto him, and letting her lips fall back on his.

"Um, that could be bad," he managed. Not that he cared. Shit, if a few of her security guards got to see the scene of their wildest fantasies, maybe it'd be good for their work ethic. On the other hand, he wouldn't want it to mess with her life.

"Hell with it," she said. Slowly, luxuriously, carefully, she took his lips, tracing the sensitive skin with her tongue, then biting his lower lip. Hard.

He should be exhausted.

He wasn't.

Some time later, he drew a line across her cheekbone. "I've got to get to S.A.R.A.H."

"I can't believe we got away with this," she murmured. "Where were the twenty calls for the security chief and the half dozen for your help with IT?"

"Hey," he protested, "Tech support is worth a hell of a lot more to most of the scientists in Eureka than security. I bet I get more calls than you do."

She made a scoffing noise. "No way," she said just as a phone rang. "Ha, proof. That one's mine." She sat up and reached for her pants. Rummaging through her pockets, she pulled out her phone, as Zane sat up, too, regretting that the moment had been interrupted.

"Good thing we don't use video phones…" She started to say, but her voice stilled as the phone rang again. She stared at its small screen.

"Jo? What is it?"

She didn't respond to him, instead answering the phone with a small, unsure, "Hello?"

Zane couldn't hear the voice on the other end of the line, but Jo's eyes widened and her hand flew across her mouth as if she were holding words inside by force.

"Who is it? Is something wrong?" Zane kept his tone quiet, not wanting to be overhead, but Jo shook her head.

She looked like she might be about to cry, but she kept her fingers clamped over her mouth until finally, she peeled them loose to say, "Okay, I'll check when I get home." She paused. "It's all right. Love you, too."

She dropped the phone onto her discarded pants, drew her knees up, and buried her face.

"Jojo?" Zane asked, worried. He stroked his hand up the bumps of her spine, letting it come to rest between her shoulder blades. "Is everything okay?"

She lifted her head and turned to him. "My mom apologized for calling me at work. Apparently it annoys me. I don't know whether to—" and then her lips firmed and she hauled off and punched him in the shoulder.

"Ouch!" Zane rubbed his shoulder. She'd hit him a lot harder than she had the first few times she'd punched him a few days ago. He hoped this wasn't going to become a habit.

"You idiot! How could you—how did you—how—" She stopped talking and drew a deep breath, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Screwing around with the timeline is dangerous." Jo sniffled. "You really shouldn't have." But she leaned into him, tucking her head under his chin with the ease of long-time companionship and comfort.

Zane held his breath. This was what it would be like between them, he realized. Not just the heat of passion, but this moment, too, when the tough soldier took a break, leaving the soft woman to cuddle against him.

"I always thought I'd be a dancer if my mom had lived," Jo said thoughtfully. "I guess I was wrong."

"You were meant to be Eureka's security chief," he told her.

"As Eureka's security chief, I should throw your ass in jail. What were you thinking?"

"It wasn't the first time. Remember, Caiti—the little Caiti—writing a letter to her Gamma? No way was that my mom. Had to be yours. In the future we want, Jo, your mom is alive and well and being called Gamma."

"It was a crazy risk to take."

"We've lived this life again and again, Jo. More times than even our future selves knew." He glanced toward his pants and the memory-wipe device. It wouldn't be the first time that he'd wiped his memory. How many times had they done this, how close had they come? How many times had his future—or past—selves gotten partway to a solution, only to find themselves re-living the same moments? But it didn't matter.

This time they had it.

He hoped.

Déjà vu.

Zane stared down at the face of his newborn daughter. Blue eyes stared up at him, alert and focused. "I think this one is going to have my eyes."

"All babies have blue eyes." Jo yawned, but her gaze was fond.

"Yeah, but…" Zane shut up. How could he say that this baby felt different? That this unexpected autumn child, a surprise of the very best kind, seemed familiar to him? But the sense of recognition was profound. For whatever reason, Zane knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that this kid, this baby girl, was his.

He was going to love being her dad.

A/N: Wow, it's so weird to finish this story. Thank you so much to all of you who have read and reviewed. I hope these late updates have given you back a little sense of the Eureka-that-was, and the wonderful community that we had. Writing in this universe was one of the best experiences of my life. Much love to all of you!

Sarah