One More Night

Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Summary: "I'm only going to stay one more night, Zane." He raised an eyebrow, even as he snaked an arm around her and pulled her back into bed. "I thought you said that about last night, Jojo." Post-Glimpse.

A/N: M. Do NOT read at work or to kids.

This was becoming a habit with them.

He'd pulled her mouth to his before she'd had time to protest, even if she wanted to protest, which, given what they'd just gone through, she hadn't done much protesting in the slightest. Wait, that made no sense. Fuck, this habit was starting to screw with her brain. Next thing, she'd be talking like Carter and asking everyone to speak in small words.

She shook her head, sending the fog that had seen fit to clog her brain scattering in all directions. But the feel of his lips on her skin, of his fingers trailing up her sides, skimming over her stomach and up to gently cup her breasts brought the fog back tenfold, making it harder to concentrate. She turned her head, intent on telling him off, when his lips silenced hers and his tongue slipped into her mouth, cutting off all forms of conversation and communication except the one they were currently engaged in. He brushed his thumb over her breast, his cool touch causing her nipple to pebble at the contact. His other hand slid down her stomach, tracing circles around her belly button before moving lower. A soft groan worked its way up her throat, escaping her lips as her eyes closed and she forced herself to push him away.

A bad habit.

"N... o." It took every muscle, every inch of her diaphram, every one of her currently taut, sore vocal chords to drag the single syllable from her lips. "No, we... we can't do this, Zane. Not again." She said, pushing the blankets away and climbing out of bed.

One that needed to be broken.

Starting now.

He groaned softly in annoyance as her image reared its ugly head; the Security Chief, the Enforcer, the former Deputy.

Each one was a persona that hid behind perfectly ironed powersuits and slicked back ponytails, behind black high heels and the various weapons she kept hidden on her person: the Walther PPK/S tucked into her back, the pearl-gripped Colt Model Nineteen-Oh-Three Pocket Hammerless that was strapped to the outside of her leg with whatever garter belt that came with the chosen set of lingerie she'd decided to wear that day, the Glock nestled in the holster at her side required of all GD security, the Smith & Wesson Six-Thirty-Seven Airweight concealed at her right ankle, and SIG-Sauer PTwo-Twenty-Eight tucked into her other hip, the small Swiss Army knife tucked into her cleavage, the knife concealed at her waist, and the small switchblade she kept tucked at her left ankle, and Zane- as well as everyone else in Eureka- often wondered how she managed to keep all her small weapons concealed on her tiny frame without looking bulky. Most likely years of Army training and work as the Deputy prior to being Head of Security were the cause. A moment passed, as he watched her grope for her clothing in the still dark room, it was close to ten, and she'd gone against her better judgement, going home with Zane again- just like after that kiss in the burning rubble of her house- and sleeping with him. Not going back to SARAH, not going to the sheriff's office, not sleeping on his sofa, but sleeping with him- in every sense of the word.

"Come on, Jo." He reached out, grabbing her wrist as she turned back and grabbed her cell off the nightstand. "Don't pull any of those ridiculous masks you wear back on. Don't go. Stay." She searched his face; his blue eyes were a soft blue, still coated in sleep and silent pleading. A moment passed, a moment where she longed to do just that and return her clothing to their previous places on the floor, set her phone down, and climb back into bed with him, making love until the clock struck midnight, or until they both tired and fell into a deep slumber, entwined in each others' arms.

But she couldn't. They couldn't.

Instead, she pulled away, grabbing the peach blouse she'd worn the night before and pulling it on before wandering around the room and grabbing the emerald green lingerie, the only surviving set, that had been the spark that had fueled the fire whenever it had begun to die. Images of their bodies pressed together, against the wall in the hallway of his apartment complex, against the door, on the sofa, on the kitchen counter, in bed- an endless game of Hide and Seek- where each time, when one thought they had the other right where they wanted them, their prey would change tactics. Jo's emerald lingerie had been a key piece in their game. Where Zane would tug the strap down and kiss her shoulder, she would pull it back up, covering herself as his fingers worked on her panties and his lips worked on hers. Where he would try to remove, she would replace, a sly smile on her face and a spark of 'Undress me if you can' in her eyes, of which Zane had eagerly taken up the challenge.

"Sorry, Zane. This was a one time thing." He raised his eyes, propping himself onto his elbow.

"Oh really? A 'one time thing,' Jo? Like the last... few nights. Or the last few weeks, rather. What are we up to? Five? Six?" She stopped pulling on her pants and turned to him. He watched her, an air of innocence on his face that she knew for a fact was feigned. He raised his eyebrows, waiting. Her lips pursed in annoyance, and she narrowed her eyes. "No, I think it's seven or eight now." He amended, switching onto his back and folding his arms behind his head. When his blue eyes looked up, it was to Jo staring down at him.

Volcanic rage smouldered in her dark eyes, and her cheeks were flushed in anger. She clenched her fists, most likely trying to keep herself from reaching out and strangling him. Her nails dug into the soft flesh of her palms, and she was shaking; so great her anger, that Zane felt a brief twinge of guilt for upsetting her so badly.

But only briefly.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting Jo's enraged silence surround him. It didn't really matter to him if she was pissed beyond reason or extremely happy; as long as she was in his bed and in his arms, curled around his body during sex or cuddled on his chest sound asleep, as long as Jo was there, he'd be perfectly happy. Not that he could explain it, but a part of him physically ached when she wasn't around; a deep, soul-wrenching, torturous ache that attacked his bones and messed with him mind. It was almost as if his soul had been sliced in half, and one portion had been lift in him, while the other half had been placed in Jo's small, lithe body. It was like when she wasn't around, he was incomplete, and only when in her presence or with her near, was he complete. It was strange, like she had some sort of spiritual control over his body and soul, and that's what Zane hated the most.

No one had control over himself but him, no matter what they thought.

Except Jo.

It seemed that she had absolute and complete-

When his eyes snapped open next, it was to find Jo staring down at him again, only this time, she was facing the correct way. And that was when he realized that she was sitting on his chest, her small hands pressing down on his shoulders as she sat on his diaphram, her long legs hugging his sides, her chest heaving, straining against her blouse as she took deep breaths, forcing herself to stay in check so she didn't commit murder. Her hair was down around her face in black tangles, and he could see the chain- the chain that had once held his grandmother's engagement ring- around her neck. She leaned down until their noses touched; her breath was warm against his skin, and he found himself counting the gold flecks in her dark eyes.

"Let me make this very clear, Zane." Her soft purr caressed his flesh, sending chills over his skin and down his spine, forcing all rational thought and blood flow from his brain, downwards. He swallowed, suddenly realizing that her simple action had set the desire working again, and he silently prayed she wouldn't move any lower, lest she wanted to be met with a quickly hardening problem. "This is nothing more than sex. I told you, I've done this before. We don't fit. We never have. No matter the universe. We just have a spark."

And she moved to climb off him, having made her point- or so she thought. But instead of letting her go, he grabbed her elbows, and with a good, firm push, shoved her into the blankets and pillows she'd previously had him pressed into. The action knocked the breath out of her; she'd hit her head against the headboard before he'd settled her into the pillows, and she struggled to catch a breath.

Zane studied her, watching the rise and fall of her chest, memories of having to pull her over the ledge after she'd manually released the dormancy gel, of the rough and tumble rollover they'd gone through once both were on the solid ground, of how he'd ended up on top of her, shielding her from the rising steam that filled the room. He'd watched the rise and fall of her chest then too, checking for any abnormalities; broken ribs, bruised sides, damaged lungs, and finding nothing. Now, though, he watched her for an entirely different reason. Her eyes had briefly unfocused after she'd hit her head, but she seemed fine now, just annoyed. Satisfied that she was okay, he leaned down, whispering gruffly, "And I told you, sometimes a spark is all you need."

Her eyes began to roll back as he nipped at her ear, but after a moment, she pushed against him. "No. No! I won't do this! Not again! I refuse to fall for you again! I will not repeat the same mistake twice!" She snapped, attempting to slip out from under him, but he held firm, finally capturing her protests as his lips found hers and drank her in. Her attempts to escape soon turned feeble as she wrapped her arms around him, digging her nails into his back as he moved down, biting roughly at her neck before moving to tease her nipple through the thin fabric of her blouse. He bit gently on the pebbled nub, sucking gently before moving to repeat the process on the other one. Jo gasped, reaching up and tangling her fingers tightly in his hair.

Against her better judgement- she'd been going against it alot lately- she realized that her Zane and this one had begun to blur. Sure, at first, their lovemaking had been awkward, but after they'd discovered each others' rhythms, her Zane had been just as passionate as this one, if not more so. She hissed as his lips returned to her neck and he bit down, sucking and biting at the pulse at her neck- her Zane had done that. After they'd discovered what the other liked, their lovemaking had turned passionate, wild, even a little erotic at times. Her Zane had been just as rough; bites had been a thing with him, almost as much as lingerie, and he'd seemed to delight in peppering her skin with the purple bruises, as though having to make sure everyone knew that she was his. Her wrists, her neck, her thighs, her chest, her stomach, her shoulders- every avaliable area, he'd mark as his, leaving bruises of various sizes, to the point where Carter had been about ready to arrest him on charges of domestic abuse. It seemed, that this one was the same way. She could feel the bruises starting to form on the areas he'd already marked, and she struggled to keep the heartache at bay.

It was when the buttons on her peach blouse popped that she came back to reality and pushed him away. She could feel the hardened length of his arousal pressing against her clothed thigh, as well as the heat radiating between her own legs, but she forced herself to get out of bed. She couldn't fall victim to her carnal urges; she had an example to set. Besides, if she woke up the next morning in his bed...

"I have to go back to SARAH-" She started firmly, more to convince herself than him, and as she turned back to grab one of her heels, he pulled her back to him, ripping her blouse from her body and attacking her breasts again, digging his nails into her back as he pulled her onto his lap. "Zane-" But she quickly felt her own self-control slipping away, as she wound her fingers into his hair again, and ground into him, pushing him back until he lay beneath her. She knew the consequences of waking up in his bed the next morning. Hating herself, no matter the physical satisfaction this night brought her, but she didn't give a damn. He had her out of her pants in seconds, his hands finding her taut, firm ass, and she moved to take him into her, sliding over him until they were completely, absolutely connected. As they lost themselves in each other, she found herself hoping that he would let her go this time.

I know I've said it a million times, but this is the last. Cross my heart, and hope to die, I swear it!

As they exploded together, bodies wrapped around each other, she whispered in his ear, "Tonight is it."

"You've said that a million times, Jo, and it's never true." He replied, taking her face in his hand and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. When she slid off of him, removed himself from her, she took a deep, shaky breath, and moved to the edge of the bed. He lay watching her, struggling to calm his racing heart. "I didn't think it could get any better than last time, but you proved me wrong, Josefina." She stopped, turning back to look at him. He grinned, reaching for her, but she turned back, searching the darkness for her clothes. She took a deep breath, her heart breaking as she realized that she was about to break her own rule; they had nothing, no relationship, no love, and yet, here she was, trying to make something out of nothing. Softly, she said,

"I'm only going to stay one more night, Zane." He raised an eyebrow, even as he snaked an arm around her and pulled her back into bed. "I thought you said that about last night, Jojo."