A/N: Not my characters, of course. That said, this is the third episode (fourth story) of my own alternate Eureka timeline: if you haven't read Better Late Than Never, An Australian Werewolf in Eureka, and The BOUS Problem, parts of this story might not make much sense, starting with the butter pecan ice cream and continuing…well, all the way to the end, which I'm not going to tell you about yet. :)

Chapter One

With the bees calm and tranquil, the beekeeper carefully set down the smoker and pulled the wooden frame out of the white hive. He held it up to the light: beautiful. The honeycombs were perfectly formed, and the honey behind the wax looked dark and rich. He'd stayed patient for months while the bees did their work, but now he couldn't wait to get the honey into his lab to test it.

His excitement made him careless. Turning with the frame still in hand, he tripped over the smoker and fell against the hive.

Most of the bees were too stoned on smoke and their own honey to care, but a few reacted in bee-like fashion: an attack on the hive roused the instinct to fight to the death. Three of them managed to sting, quickly lodging their barbs under the skin of the scientist, who swore in annoyance. He should have worn full protective covering, but he'd been raising bees for decades and a few stings were nothing.

A few stings from normal bees, that was.

He stumbled his way to the door of his experimental greenhouse and apiary, shoving it open, and then falling through. What was happening? He felt dizzy, head rushing as his lips went numb and his hands went cold. He landed on his side, managing to save the honeycomb by pushing it away from him as he fell. But the impact damaged a corner of the wax, and as his eyes closed, he saw a bit of the dark, viscous liquid dripping onto the ground.

Death for the honeybees came quickly—barbs ripped from their abdomens, they would die within minutes, although their attack pheromones would linger for hours. So would the scientist, lying on the ground in Eureka's unseasonably warm autumn weather, the door to the apiary wedged open by his body.

Two doors down, Jo was propped up on her side, watching Zane sleep. They were both going to be late to work, but she wasn't thinking about that. She was also going to have to skip her morning workout, something she hated, but she wasn't thinking about that, either.

The night before, after relieving months of pent-up sexual tension in her new kitchen, they'd eaten turkey sandwiches and partially-melted butter pecan ice cream—which they'd both agreed wasn't half bad, but no Rocky Road—by the unlit fireplace in her new living room. Then they'd tried out her new bedroom floor (she should really have gotten carpeting instead of hardwood), shared a shower in her new bathroom, and finally agreed—sometime after midnight—that beds were awfully nice and not at all over-rated and that a quick trip to Zane's apartment was in order.

With the lateness of the hour and the dark of the night, she hadn't noticed much. But in the early morning light, she'd realized that Zane's apartment—this Zane's apartment—was noticeably different from the old timeline Zane's apartment, and that had started her thinking.

"Do I smell coffee?" It was a half-awake mumble. His eyes didn't open.

Jo's lips curved. "You do." She'd put a cup on the bedside table before crawling back into bed with him.

His eyelashes fluttered, and suddenly his blue eyes were looking at her, still not quite awake. "That wasn't a dream."

"Nope," she agreed, a little complacently.

"Wow," his eyes closed again, but only for a second or two, and then he was rolling over, pulling her back down next to him, landing on top of her. She gave out a little shriek of surprise, and then laughed, looking up at him.

"Best dream ever," he said, capturing her mouth with his own. She opened to him, feeling the immediate rush of warmth, the glow as he explored her with his lips and tongue, one hand stroking while he rested his weight on the other arm. She wrapped herself around him, loving the heat, the touch, the texture of his skin. They murmured words the way that lovers do; good, here, so sweet, yes, touch me, now, oh…until finally he was inside her and they were moving together and all there was in the world was the moment they were in and the place where they were together.

When her breathing had slowed and the sweat had cooled, Jo said prosaically, "Now we're going to be really late to work."

"We could call in sick," he suggested, head still buried in her neck.

"I can't," she said, tempted but unable to bring herself to abandon her responsibilities. "I've still got work to do cleaning up that whole bat mess, and I have to fill out the final paperwork for Kwon. He didn't have family in Eureka, so we need to notify his next of kin, and they deserve to know as soon as possible. I should really have done it yesterday."

Zane nodded, finally pulling away from her. He looked at her and grinned, "I'd say we could shower together to save time, but I don't think that would really work. Do you want the bathroom first?"

She smiled back at him, accepting his offer, and gesturing with her head to the coffee cup on the bedside table. "That's why I brought you coffee. It was a bribe."

"Perfect. I'll have coffee in bed while I imagine you in my shower. And think about having the same morning for the next fifty or sixty years."

"Ah." Jo took a deep breath, and bit her lip. "About that…"

Zane frowned.

"We can't tell anyone," she said quickly. "And I can't wear the ring. Not yet." She looked at him searchingly. Would he understand? "It's not that I don't want to. I so want to. I would start planning our life together today if I could. Not to mention the wedding. But…I've never even been in this apartment before. And it's not just us at stake. If people realize there's something wrong, the sanctions for…"

Halfway through her words, he started to nod and before she could finish, he put one finger against her lips to silence her. "I understand. You're not the impulsive type and if you start acting too out of character, it could be dangerous. It's okay."

She smiled with relief, and shaped a kiss against his silencing finger. Reaching up, he curved his hand around the back of her head and pulled her back to him for a real kiss.

Before it could get too serious, she broke it off and said, "Okay, I need to shower, before we're insanely late." She touched his cheek and with one last smile, slipped out of the bed and walked across the room, totally unselfconscious in her nudity.

He watched her walk, reaching for his coffee without looking at it, but she stopped in the doorway and turned back to him. She looked as if she wanted to ask a question, but paused, hesitant. "What?" he asked, hand on the already cool cup.

"Um, did you clean for me?" she asked, "Because this is a different apartment anyway, but…"

He laughed, and admitted the truth. "I did think you might be coming over after our picnic on Saturday, so, yeah. I figured you being military and all, chances were you'd be neater than me."

"Ah, is pretty much everyone on the planet neater than you?"

"Well…yeah." He picked up the coffee cup and brought it to his mouth.

Jo heaved a sigh that mixed relief and resignation. "I'm glad to know some things don't change. At least, I think I'm glad."

He laughed again and toasted her with the coffee cup as she turned and disappeared.