Singing Like a Bird 'Bout It Now Chapter 1
So, I started writing another Eureka fic. Even though I have a WIP that isn't finished yet. What's probably going to happen is I'll get stuck on one and then switch to working on the other to beat procrastination. That's the plan anyway.
But here's the AO3 Link, that I posted there last night, and forgot to put here and on FF.Net. I'm doing FF.net because Eureka is an older fandom, and I think there's a couple people there who never made the switch.
Summary: Jo rushes into the Sheriff's station after 1947, and is greeted by a Zane who does not remember proposing to her that morning. But they're definitely still together. It just seems that Jo can't figure out what they hell they are, and why he's still going on dates with other women.
Zane doesn't understand why Jo's suddenly done an about face, but if it gets her to stop acting like nothing's going on between them, he can work with that. He just wishes he knew why she looked so sad when she looked at him.
Jo strode into the Sheriff’s station, heart hammering against her bruised ribs, terrified of what she would find. The statue had changed. God, she hoped that was the only thing they’d changed. It would be a ridiculous change they would have made, back in 1947, but one Jo would have no problem living with.
There Zane was, sitting in her cell like he’d been that morning, casual and cool, like she hadn’t ripped his heart out and thrown it in his face. Hope bubbled up in her chest, and Jo could feel it showing in her smile. Maybe they’d be okay. She could feel the weight of the ring still in her pocket. They could still have their happy ending, walking into Café Diem, congratulations from all their friends, phone calls from their parents. Everything would be okay.
“Zane. I can't believe you're still here.”
He didn’t even look up at her, just kept thumbing through his magazine, “Where else would I be?”
“I thought after the way that I reacted,” she broke off sighing, not sure what to say about what she did that morning, or how to fix it. She’d never been good with words. “I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I was just thinking too much. You know, I... I do that sometimes and...”
He cut her off, disinterest in his tone, “Lupo, what the hell are you trying to say?”
“I'm trying to say, ‘Yes.’”
“Yes? Yes, you’ll what, stop hogging the covers? Seriously Jo, what’s gotten into you?” he asked as he threw down his magazine.
“What we, this morning, you,” she cut herself off, dread filling her stomach like a weight. She looked around the room and saw that while Zane was in the cell, it was empty. None of the trappings or reminders of how they met that had been there when she'd first walked in that morning, before 1947. No framed poster, no bedding on the cot, no damn Panini press, no, no Liza’s box. And… Oh.
The cell door. It was locked, likely with the key that was on her belt loop. Why the hell was Zane in a locked cell?
“This morning you kicked me out of your bed at 3 am when I asked you to stop hogging the covers. And then this afternoon you threw me in jail.” Her bed. She’d kicked him out of her bed. Not their bed anymore. They didn’t live together?
Jo sat down at her desk, no able to look Zane in the eye while she tried to process everything that had happened. "Yeah, well, you shouldn’t bother me when I’m trying to sleep. You should be smarter than that," she said, forcing a smirk to her face, slipping into the familiar biting banter she and Zane had when they were fighting. Had she and Zane never gotten serious? He certainly wasn't looking at her the same way he had that morning.
“Look, Dungeon Master, when am I getting out of here?”
She played with her hands, picking the dirt out from under her nails, “I don’t know, what’d you do?”
“Nothing, you just like throwing me in jail,” she fixed her least impressed look in his direction, careful not to look in his eyes, but just above his head. If she did that, she might do something irrational and ill-befitting of a Deputy of Eureka. Like start beating prisoners. “So I unlocked a few cages, those monkeys deserved some freedom. Look, could you just let me out? I’ve got a date."
What? "Really? A date? With who?"
"Yeah, I'm meeting the blonde chick with the Ph.D. in Reproductive Biology. We're going to play doctorate," he smirked, without any of the soft and nervous affection he'd had that morning. Just the sarcastic bravado he’d had when he’d bought her lingerie to get under her skin. Did he even remember doing that anymore?
"Come on, Lupo, don't start acting like you care what I get up to or who with. We both know what's going on here, and what we’re not." No, I don’t know what we are, or why you’re sleeping with me but going out with other women. Why the hell wouldn’t I care about that!
She rushed to his cell door to unlock it, desperate to get him away from her, “Go. Get out.”
“You gonna taze me in the ass again?” and there was that grin, charming and handsome, that had caught her eye two years ago. Obsession with firearms can be a sign of an unfulfilled sexual appetite. I'm not saying that's you. But if it is, I'm at your service.She’d had to be talked out of shooting him back then. Now she wanted to shoot him, whatever blonde chick he was meeting up with, and maybe herself.
"Just get out," she snapped at him, blinking back tears that she couldn’t let fall. He walked out the door, facing her, clearly puzzled, his eyebrows drawn together in a way that she normally found cute, but right now, made her want to punch something. Anything would do.
The door shut behind Zane with a click, and Jo leaned against the cell bars, took a breath, and winced. She’d managed to clean up the blood on her face while Henry and Fargo were repairing the phones, but her ribs still needed to be taped, and the scrapes on her hands and head needed to be cleaned. She should still have an almost full tub of GD-grade bruise gel at home. Hopefully, it was still there.
Jo unlocked her door and stepped into her house, shutting the door behind her before leaning against it, letting her breath rush out of her. She took moment to close her eyes and just breathe after the chaos of the day that wasn’t even over yet. But she knew her peace couldn't last. She would have to go through her house to try to put together the pieces of the picture that made up her life, and figure out where everything went wrong.
Well, she had her minute. Time to face the music. She pushed off of the door, opened her eyes, and headed to the kitchen. She glanced around, her fingers trailing along the cool counter, taking it in. Didn’t look any different than it had when she had left that morning. Except…
She peered into the dishwasher and sighed in disappointment. Gone were Zane's plates with dried-on eggs, or his TARDIS-shaped mug, and she didn't think that was because he'd washed them already. They were probably at his old apartment, the one he'd barely spent any time at after they got together. Oh, they hadn't officially moved in together until after he'd gotten home from the Arctic, but that had been a formality, almost. Like he'd thought his question that morning had been. So let’s make it official. He’d really wanted to marry her. Spend the rest of his life with her, like she was the obvious choice.
Jo shook her head. She couldn’t think about that, the proposal that had never happened. She didn’t know how to fix the timeline, so she had to deal with this Zane in the meantime, if not forever. She really hoped she didn’t have this smarmy asshole forever.
She moved onto the living room. It looked like it had before Zane moved in, same décor, same pictures, and the same piano along the wall. The books on the shelves and her coffee table were just her books here, no physics journals or sci-fi novels or comic books. Just the thrillers and murder mysteries she liked to read on the rare occasion she had the opportunity. And, she checked the ottoman with the small storage space, some romance novels with shirtless men on the cover that she did notpull out in public. Zane had teased her the first time he’d seen her reading one, but she’d come home early one day and saw him on the couch, curled up with the blanket his mom had sent as a housewarming present, reading one. He insisted he was just being a good boyfriend, taking interest in her interests. And then he cracked a joke about the cowboy on the cover and positions. She’d been mad at him, but he made up for it.
She moved over to the stairs, heading up. At the very least, she would have to get changed and clean up, get 1947 off of her as quickly as possible. Hope that when she got out of the shower and back to town, Henry would have figured out a way to fix this.
Jo opened the door to her bedroom and stripped off her costume, heading straight for the en-suite bathroom. She showered quickly and efficiently, noting that, like most of the house, Zane's belongings were not there. She got out, wrapped the towel around herself, and headed to the sink to check the scrape on her temple. She applied GD's liquid band-aid to the cut, ignoring the sting, and went to put it away in the cabinet when she stopped, heart in her throat.
A used men's razor. She lifted it off the counter delicately, noting the short dark hairs caught between the blades. Zane's. Jo took stock of the rest of the vanity and felt a glimmer of hope that she hadn't felt since Zane spoke, back in the station.
Two toothbrushes in the holder. A can of his shaving cream. His aftershave, cap off because he could never remember to put the lid back on. She checked the shower again, and saw the bar of soap in the corner of the caddy, the kind that she never used, but, had clearly been used by someone.
Okay. Zane didn’t have any of his stuff downstairs, but he was over often enough that he had some space on her bathroom counter. Though not over enough for them to be exclusive. She really hoped she didn’t have to see him on his date. Her self-control was good, but not that good, she thought as she taped up her ribs and smoothed gel over her bruises. Those needed to fade, and quickly. The last thing she needed was someone asking what happened to her arms.
After giving the gel a minute to dry down, Jo walked back into her bedroom and got dressed, jerking open her drawers to see what was in each one. Her underwear, tank tops, T-Shirts and sweats all still in drawers. She yanked the last one open, wondering if it was empty if it was still being used for her sweaters, or…
Zane's clothes. Not all of them, his wardrobe probably had more than just a pair of jeans, two pairs of boxers, a couple of V-necks and, a crumpled-up plaid shirt. But he kept clothes here. Not enough to be living here, which the bottom floor had told her. But clean clothes for those rushed mornings when he wouldn't have time to run home before heading to work. He'd probably shown up to GD too many times wearing yesterday's clothes, thick stubble on his face.
Who had suggested it? Had she cleared it out and offered it to him? Had he brought them over in a backpack or duffle, slipping them into the drawer with a nervous grin? Were they the result of lazy weekends spent in her bed, ignoring the world outside?
She pulled her jeans on before picking up her dirty clothes and bringing them over to her hamper, and right on top of her clothes, was a pair of his boxers. Just more evidence that Zane was part of her life, but she didn’t know how she fit into his. If she went over to his apartment, would she find similar signs of her presence? Travel-size versions of her shampoo and conditioner, a change or two of clothes, maybe part of a spare uniform? Would her robe be there, or, no, she caught herself. He was fucking other women. If she got cold over there, she’d borrow one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweats.
And that was if she even went over to his place. She really needed to stop dawdling and get back to town so she could talk to Carter and Henry, see what was going on, and if they could fix this. And if they couldn’t, well, she’d been a Special Forces operative and was now a Deputy in Eureka. She could adapt. Maybe she could get Zane to adapt with her. Maybe, she thought as she slipped the ring onto a chain and placed it around her neck, not willing to be without it in case Henry found a way to fix this, maybe he’d even try to put this ring on her finger again. But that wasn’t happening tonight. Because she froze.
"We don't trust institutions like that."
So this prompt was picked by @ourunsungheroes42344 for the Summer of 100 Surprise Stories, where I wrote a past Dean/Jo, present Dean/Castiel and Zane/Jo (Eureka, Supernatural) fic. I hope you all enjoy!
My Ex And My Husband And My Ex's Husband And a Cryptid -Jo runs into a familiar face while heading back to Eureka on a road trip honeymoon and gets roped into a hunt.
READ @ AO3 | BUY ME A COFFEE?
“We don't trust institutions like that.”
“Well, to be fair, the people at Area 51 don’t deserve to be trusted. They’re all kind of assholes.”
Jo looked between her ex and her husband. How she had ended up in a diner with Zane and Dean, she had no idea, but Dean was from a time in her life when she did a few things that were questionable. He wasn’t fully classified to know about the things she and Zane were part of now, but Zane had never cared for government classifications, and Dean had never cared for the government. The two of them hit it off great, apparently, while she sat to Zane’s left, nibbling on her thumbnail.
“Gotta ask...there really such things as aliens?”
“If I told you that I’d have to kill you,” Zane said to Dean with a grin as he shook his head.
“Jo Jo,” Dean said.
“I thought I was the only one who called her Jo Jo,” Zane said.
“With her cute face? She screams Jo Jo as a nickname,” Dean said with a grin, pointing at her with a fry. “Have anything that can help with a cryptid problem?”
“I may have a few things in the trunk, but I’ll only share if I’m in on the hunt.” She glanced at her husband, hoping he didn’t suddenly want to see this whole other side of his wife. But Zane was leaning back in the seat, looking at Dean with something resembling awe.
“I’ll wait in the motel room.”
“Great! You can keep my husband company,” Dean said. “He’s…” Dean trailed off then.
Dean started slightly as a man in a trenchcoat and pressed blue shirt and black slacks was suddenly next to them. It was a good thing that Jo didn’t startle, but Zane damn near jumped.
“I was trying to be diplomatic, Cas.”
“I am unusual. That’s the diplomatic term. But I think Zane and I will get along just fine.”
“Hey, where I’m from if you aren’t unusual, you don’t belong,” Zane said, sliding out of the seat, then leaning over and kissing Jo. “I’m not going to pretend to know what’s in the trunk, but no explosions, kay?”
“Take all the fun out of my hunt,” she said, giving him a fake pout. He kissed her again and try as she might, she suddenly didn’t care that her ex and his husband and probably the whole damn diner was watching. Kissing Zane was an experience, every time, and she slipped into it as easily as she slipped into her trusty combat boots. When he pulled away, this time the pout was real, but she saw Dean having a similar experience on his face and his husband straightening up.
“So, show me what you got,” he said when Cas and Zane walked away.
She was bloody, but none of it was hers. Thank God; she’d been in scrapes before around Zane, had to explain blood and bruises before, but the
of blood? That would have taken some real fancy talking. Hunter Jo was a thing of the past, but she still knew what the hell she was doing. At least she was pretty sure she did if those kids didn’t go looking for more fun in the forest. The old Deputy Lupo may have come into play a bit.
“You’re tiny but I think I have a tank top that’ll fit. Pants, you’re on your own,” Dean said, tossing her an A-line tank.
“Just need a shirt and a shower. It’s mostly in my hair and on my shirt. Thank God Zane and Cas are in our room. Wouldn’t want to surprise them looking like this.”
“Cas has seen worse,” Dean said. “Pulled me out of Hell, so…”
She caught up on the wilder aspects of the last twenty years of Dean’s life while they’d been on the hunt, and considering the fact they’d met over a demonic summoning ritual gone bad by some idiot kids in her group of friends, him being in Hell didn’t surprise her. Sadden her, yeah, but not surprise.
“So he’s a demon summoner?”
“Former angel,” Dean said. “Didn’t think I could love anyone as much as I love Cas. A definite definition of 'soulmate;.”
Despite the blood dripping down her face, she smiled. “That’s kinda cute for you.”
“That’s me. I’m a softie now.”
Settled with another hunter, Eileen. Taking a break at the moment because she’s expecting their first kid. But they’re happy. So am I.” He paused. “Are you?”
“All things considered? Yeah. Zane’s the guy for me. He proved it when we reset time.”
“So that’s why some of the stuff you talked about didn’t make sense anymore.”
“Yup. Like the Doctor says, wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff. It’s all pretty settled now, for the better. Eureka isn’t a government facility anymore, so...there’s some freedom now. It’s nice.”
“Guess I have to give the rifle back,” he said. “It’s a sweet piece of machinery.”
“Keep it,” she said. “I have two more in more office.”
“Jo, I love you. If we weren’t both happily married I’d sweep you off your feet for that futuristic gun collection of yours.”
“Hey, why don’t you and Cas come up to Eureka with me and Zane? Our honeymoon is just about over, and I swear, you have never had pie as good as the stuff that we can come up with.”