"Home and Habitats"

by BeElleGee

Rated PG-13

Disclaimer: Characters and situations property of the WB, producers, creators of "Tarzan", etc. No profit will be made off this fiction and never will.

Summary: Things haven't changed much since the hearing: Jane is still apprehensive; John is still something of a social pariah. But all that is about to change after they make a conscious effort to learn more about each other and Jane moves John in with her for a few days to keep him out of trouble while Kathleen is away.

***

PART TWO ~ Domestic Bliss

Jane played back the message on her answering machine from Kathleen Clayton and wrote the number she had left down in the pad of paper she kept by the phone. Then she picked up the receiver and punched the numbers into the keypad.

While waiting for Kathleen to answer, Jane spared a worried glance at John. Ever since she'd brought him back here, he seemed decidedly uncomfortable and clearly not sure what to do with himself. Jane knew it would most likely take him awhile before he felt at ease, but she also knew--especially from his random visit this morning--that he used to feel comfortable in her home. Maybe her list of rules had him spooked. He seemed to be afraid to touch anything, or go anywhere in the apartment, without getting her permission first. Right now, he was staring out the window, as if fascinated by the traffic passing by.

"Hello? Who's calling please?"

Jane started at the sound of Kathleen's cultured voice. She took a deep breath and sat down on the sofa.

"Kathleen, it's Jane."

"Jane. Good to hear from you. I'm sorry I haven't called sooner. I hope everything is all right. How's John doing?"

Jane looked over at him again. "He's fine. Now. He got into a little trouble with the police earlier this week, but I got the charges against him dismissed."

"Oh god," Kathleen groaned. There was a drawn-out moment of silence. Then: "Is there anything you need me to do?"

"No. He's all right, really. There's nothing for you to be concerned about. I took some time off work and...John's staying with me now."

There was another slight pause as Kathleen obviously digested this bit of information. "Staying with you? What do you mean? Was he released into your custody?"

John was looking back at Jane now, having heard his name mentioned. He stalked over to where she sat, and knelt beside her.

"Is that Kathleen?" he asked in a whispery voice.

Jane nodded, and tried to think of a tactful way to both reassure John's aunt and not upset John.

"I'm taking care of him, if you know what I mean," Jane replied, forcing a smile. John smiled back.

"Oh, I see," Kathleen said in a hushed tone, as if sensing John might be near her.

"It's been mutually beneficial for us both," Jane added.

Kathleen took a deep, measured breath. "I'm sure it has," she stated knowingly. "Just be careful, Jane. I just don't want to see John get hurt. He...cares a great deal about you. And he's more vulnerable than you'd think."

Jane felt her face flush with anger. She licked her lips and told herself to calm down before answering. Kathleen had every right to worry about John. Her love for him was unwavering now. To her, he was nothing short of a miracle, and she protected him with a paternal ferocity that rivaled Jane's.

"You don't have to worry about that," Jane said evenly. "I won't let anything happen to him. I promise."

Kathleen sighed again. "Is he around? Can I talk to him?"

Jane nodded. "Yeah sure. He's right here." She passed the phone to John and got up off the couch, going to the window and taking up John's abandoned vigil to give him some sense of privacy.

She could still hear him talking, of course. Softly and succinctly, he responded to his aunt's questions: "Yes. No. No. Yes. All right. Good-bye." Then Jane heard him suddenly behind her. She turned around and he handed her the phone.

Jane took the handset from him, and automatically went to turn it off, then stopped herself.

"When you're finished talking, you press this button, see?" she told John and pointed it out to him. "That shuts it off. And when it rings, hit 'talk' here, and that will connect you."

John's eyes brightened at the trust Jane had just shown to him with what he must have assumed to be a costly and complicated piece of new technology--surely nothing like the phones he been familiar with back in the early eighties.

He smiled as he brought the handset to his ear, listening to the drone of the dialtone for a moment before turning it off and handing the phone back to Jane.

Jane smiled warmly, happy to have pleased him with such a simple gesture. She set the phone aside and motioned for John to sit down.

"Relax, John. Make yourself comfortable. Take a load off."

John simply looked at the sofa, his cheered expression fading. Slowly, he turned his eyes back on Jane, and licked his lips apprehensively, his posture conveying his returning unease.

"I'd like to wash up...if that's all right," he said somewhat shyly, and dragged his hand through his hair as if pointing out to her its sorry state. He then rubbed his stubbly jaw and flashed a small smile. "I need to shave."

Caught off guard by his request, Jane opened her mouth to say something, decided against it, and gestured towards the bathroom. She couldn't help wondering if being with her was making him more self-conscious of his appearance.

"Of course," she stated. "Go right ahead. There's clean towels in the closet behind the bathroom door and a fresh bar of soap in the shower. The razors are under the sink. Help yourself to the shampoo or whatever else you need. Okay?"

"Thank you," John said, pivoting on his heel, and disappeared down the hall without another word.

Jane heard the bathroom door close and a few seconds later, she heard water running. John was probably undressing now. Images of him slowly pulling off the blue sweater and slithering out of his pants wafted through Jane's mind. She had to admit, they were pleasant images, but not exactly welcome. Jane shook her head forcefully to clear away such thoughts. All of a sudden, she was the one feeling uncomfortable and not sure what to do with herself.

She purposefully faced away from the bathroom and headed for the kitchen to brew some tea. She put a kettle of water on to boil and took out a mug and a tea bag. Glancing down the hall as she did, she spied John's duffel bag lying on the floor in Nikki's room. Jane started towards it, deciding to clear away some of her sister's things and unpack John's clothes for him while she waited for the water to boil. It would give her something to do, and hopefully keep her overactive imagination in check.

Nikki's room was a little smaller than Jane's, but seemed to hold more stuff. Jane worked briskly to empty the top drawer of her dresser and unpack John's things into it. She carefully put away some of Nikki's more personal things and took her collection of stuffed animals and throw pillows off the bed.

Leaning against the foot of the mattress, Jane fleetingly wondered if the bed might be too soft for John's taste. She sat down on it and bounced a few times, then lay back and stretched out.

Her weary bones happily sank into the softness of the bed's downy comforter with the sweetest relief. As tired as she was, Jane couldn't help but lie there a while, pressing her head against Nikki's feather pillows and closing her eyes. Before she realized it, she had fallen into a very deep sleep.

***

John emerged from the steamy bathroom, scrubbing his hair with a towel, re-dressed in the same clothes he'd gone in the bathroom with. He had only been wearing them for an hour or so, and since Jane had insisted he be fully dressed around her, he wasn't about to risk another reprimand from her for the sake of slightly fresher clothes.

A shrill, hissing sort of whistle suddenly blasted from the kitchen. Curious, John went to check it out, tossing the towel aside with a growing sense of concern. Jane was here, but she wasn't anywhere close, and she wasn't attending to whatever was wailing in the kitchen.

"Jane?" John called, looking around the apartment as he made his way to the kitchen.

A water kettle was on the stovetop, rattling and spewing forth steam in an alarming demand for attention. John approached it cautiously, quickly analyzing the situation, and then decided the first, and best course of action was to get the kettle away from the heat source.

The handle was hot, despite it's protective coating. John gingerly grasped it and quickly jerked it off the burner, releasing it immediately with a snarl of pain. He simultaneously blew on his scalded fingers and shook his hand furiously to throw off the sting. The whistling stopped and a welcome peace ensued but the stove burner was still radiating an incredible amount of heat.

"Jane!" John called again, more urgently this time, but still received no response. She had told him not to touch the stove, but he couldn't very well leave it on.

Shaking his head in dismay, John quickly scanned the various dials and panels of the stove and determined which dial he needed to use in order to turn off the heat to the small front burner. On/Off was easy enough and the little picture of the stovetop on the panel helped.

John waited impatiently for the glaring burner to cool before abandoning the kitchen to search for Jane.

She wasn't hard to find, and in minutes, John knew why she hadn't answered him or heard the kettle boiling. She was fast asleep, curled up in the middle of her sister's bed, oblivious to the fact John was standing anxiously over her, wondering what to do about her.

"Jane?"

Nothing.

"Jane?" John said a little louder.

Still nothing.

Sighing heavily in frustration, John thought about carrying Jane into her room and placing her on her own bed, but she had expressly forbidden him to enter her bedroom while he was staying here. That also ruled out the possibility of him sleeping there for the night. He had already broken one of her rules tonight and he wasn't going to chance breaking another. He considered sleeping on the floor next to the bed and thought about just leaving to return to his garden, but neither option appealed to him very much at the moment.

Studying Jane's expression more closely, John determined that, despite what at first, appeared to be a peaceful and deep slumber, Jane was shivering sporadically, and her pretty face was lined with tension. She hadn't covered up and was lying on top of the blankets. John looked around the room, mentally ticking off the list of Jane's rules to better understand his remaining options. One seemed obvious. He could just lie down next to her. He knew his body would warm her, and hopefully the physical contact would give her an added sense of security and calm her. He wouldn't be breaking any rules by doing so--as far as he knew.

Carefully, John climbed onto the bed and positioned himself behind Jane. He spooned himself around her back and gathered her body close, wrapping his arms around her tiny waist. Jane stirred, but only for a moment, pressing herself tighter against him as she did and emitting the softest of sighs.

"Ssshh," John whispered, nuzzling her neck. He reached up and stroked her face, soothingly, then nestled his head next to hers on the pillow, closing his eyes and deeply inhaling the aromatic scent of her beautiful hair.

Holding her this way gave John his own sense of peace and security and happily he succumbed to his own fatigue. It had been a stressful week, but he couldn't help thinking things were about to get better. A lot better.

***

Jane wondered if she was still dreaming. She woke to visions of blue birds singing on the window sill, dewy wildflowers strewn about the floor and thick ivy climbing up the walls. There were chipmunks sitting at the foot of the bed and a deer standing by the post. The sunlight blazed off it's tawny coat, spilling golden highlights about the room.

Jane smiled widely. I am dreaming, she thought, then took a moment to ponder the last time she had slept so wonderfully, and woke to lingering fragments of such a sweet, silly dream.

A forest. Wild animals. Plants. The outdoors. Jane was never one to idealize what she normally regarded as a hostile environment and couldn't help wonder why she'd find such comfort in those things now.

With her mind off and running, Jane shifted slightly to look at the clock next to the lamp on her bedside table.

Opening her eyes, she quickly realized not only was there no familiar bedside clock, this wasn't even her bed, or her room, and what was worse, looking at the thick, sinewy arm draped over her breasts, apparently, she wasn't here alone.

"Tell me I'm still dreaming," Jane murmured, wide awake now. Within the next moment, she realized several things at once: that she was in Nikki's room, that she had fallen asleep in her clothes--including her shoes, and that sometime during the night, John had decided to join her. Hesitantly, Jane turned her head to the side.

The sight that greeted her eyes carried her breath away. Bathed in the golden rays of the morning sunshine, John's handsome face filled the scope of her vision with the most stunning portrait of natural beauty Jane had ever seen. Indulgently, she let her eyes drift over the curves and planes of John's features, marveling at the perfection of their form, and increasingly appreciating the striking allure of their composition as a whole.

There was something exotic about his looks that shouldn't have been there, but was. Sometimes, it wasn't hard for Jane to picture him moving gracefully through the lush foliage of the jungles, dappled sun-light playing off his glistening skin and long, untamed hair--a rare and extraordinary creature of the wild.

"Tarzan," Jane whispered and John opened his eyes.

He blinked at her a few times as though not completely trusting what his eyes were showing him. Once he decided Jane was in fact real and lying next to him, the corners of his mouth turned up in a slow, sexy smile.

"Good morning," he murmured drowsily.

But Jane felt his hand move almost imperceptibly across her shoulder and wondered if he was attempting to release her before she noticed how intimately they were entwined. It hadn't occurred to her until then how warm and comfortable she'd been. Cradled in his arms, she'd slept more soundly than she had in months.

"No," Jane said rather desperately, before she'd even decided to say anything.

Immediately, John tensed beside her, his eyes dimming with apprehension.

At first, Jane was confused by his reaction, but then realized he must have thought she was scolding him.

"No," Jane repeated, more softly, and grasped John's hand to keep him from moving any farther away from her than he already had. "Don't leave. I like this."

John stared back at her, stopping his retreat, but made no move to return to her side.

"It's okay," Jane reassured him and snuggled up to him again. His body was radiating heat, even through his thick clothes and Jane curled her arms against his chest and rested her head beneath his chin. "I'm cold, John."

Slowly, the tension in John's body began to fade and he shifted closer to her, tightening his arms around her and even throwing his leg over hers in a gesture of complete possession.

Jane smiled happily. This wasn't so bad. It wasn't so scary. In fact, this was nice. Really nice. She had never let John this close before because she knew how such intimacy would inevitably make her feel, and though her body was placed in a state of heightened awareness by his proximity, her mind felt unexpectedly at ease.

In that instant, she knew any further intimacy between them would have to be initiated by her and Jane was not ready to do anything like that. John simply would not, which Jane believed to be more of a sign of respect for her than any naiveté on his part. And he seemed quite content to simply hold her and caress her and occasionally nuzzle at her skin. John tempted Jane to initiate further intimacy, but Jane could resist such urges for the time being. She could be content to hold and caress him as well.

"I slept really good last night," Jane murmured against his neck. She languidly trailed her fingers over the collar of his soft sweater.

"You were tired," John noted.

"Mmm."

"You left the stove on."

At that Jane sat bolt upright in bed, tearing herself out of John's embrace in a real panic. She was almost to the bedroom door when John caught her.

"It's all right. I turned it off."

Jane relaxed slightly, but faced him with a newfound suspicion. "How?"

"I turned the knob."

Needing to confirm this with her own eyes, Jane stalked into the kitchen and quickly surveyed the stove. Everything looked in order. She peered up at John.

"Well...thank you," she mumbled, frowning. "That was really...irresponsible of me. I could have started a fire."

"I took care of it," John assured her, reaching for her.

Their moment of blissful indulgence having since crashed in Jane's fit of panic, she artfully dodged away from him now, and went to the coffee pot to begin her morning routine.

Resigned, John disappeared from the kitchen, reappearing several minutes later washed and wearing fresh clothes.

Jane smiled at him benevolently. "How about some breakfast? Are you hungry?"

John smiled back at her and looked around. Not seeing any ready supply of food, he glanced at Jane and raised his brow inquiringly.

Jane gestured at the refrigerator. "I can make you some eggs if you'd like. And there's fruit. I bought all kinds of fruit, I wasn't sure what you liked. Oh, and I've got bread. And cereal."

John was already peering into the refrigerator when Jane turned away from the coffee maker to see if he'd made up his mind yet. She wasn't much of a breakfast eater herself, but liked to have buttered toast with her coffee while she read the paper.

John straightened, brandishing a left-over egg roll from the Chinese food Jane had brought home a few days ago.

"What's this?" he asked quietly, sniffing it thoroughly.

"Ah...that's an egg roll and it's a little old and not exactly a breakfast food--"

"It smells good."

Jane shrugged in resignation, and watched as John gathered up the remaining egg rolls from the plate in the refrigerator. He propped himself up against the wall and took a small bite of one.

"Sit down, John. Relax. You always look like you're ready to dash off somewhere."

Jane realized the necessity of developing the habit of eating that way growing up in a jungle, but in her home, she wanted him to get used to sitting at the table. She gestured at a chair and smiled encouragingly.

"So what's the verdict? Do you like it?"

John looked at the chair Jane was indicating warily, then dropped heavily into it. For a few moments more, he appeared decidedly uncomfortable, then he began to relax, and delved into the remaining egg rolls with relish.

"It's good," he declared, once he'd finished chewing. He ate the second one, and picked up the third. "Can you get these again?"

Jane nodded, amused. "Sure." She poured herself a cup of coffee and wondered if she should re-hash the week's menu plans. Maybe John would prefer pizzas and Chinese take-out to her apples, steaks, and raw broccoli.

The phone rang, interrupting Jane's inner musings. She took a step towards it, then stopped herself. John was looking at her hopefully.

"Uh, would you mind getting that for me?" she asked him. "I'd kind of like to finish my coffee."

Pleased beyond words, John rewarded Jane with a dazzling smile, and sprang agilely from his chair, disappearing into the living room to retrieve the ringing phone.

Laughing lightly at John's child-like excitement, Jane went to the doorway and listened. The phone had stopped ringing, and she could just hear John's deep, quiet voice in the other room. He was coming towards her now, still talking into the phone. He drew up in front of her, then handed it over to her.

"It's Nikki," he told her, still smiling ear to ear.

Jane took the phone and had to turn away from him to keep from laughing again. He was so damn adorable at times, she felt she could just lose herself completely in all his undiscovered innocence. Answering a phone was a big deal to him, just like it had been a big deal to her when she was a child. She remembered the fights she and Nikki used to get in over who got to pick up the phone.

"Nik! How are you doing? Broken any bones yet?"

"Oh. My. God. Jane! John Clayton! You finally slept with him!"

Jane sighed and massaged her eyes. "Nikki..." she said evenly in warning. "Don't go jumping to conclusions."

"What conclusions am I jumping to? He answers the phone at seven-twenty in the morning and when I ask him what he's doing there answering the phone, he tells me he slept with you." Nikki chuckled. "You said it yourself, John doesn't lie. He doesn't even know how, so dig yourself out of this one, Sis. And I want all the details!"

"Nik, don't be so precocious, okay? John doesn't lie, but he doesn't use figurative speech either. If he says he slept with me, trust me, that's exactly what he did."

"Oh," Nikki half-groaned, her excitement deflating. "But still. Sleeping together. That's kinda hot, isn't it?"

Jane was growing impatient with her sister's insinuations. "What's up, Nik?"

Nikki cleared her throat. "I'm just calling to tell you there's been a change in plans. I'll be home late Saturday instead of Sunday. Turns out the hotel reservations got screwed up and we were gypped out of a night. They've already got the room reserved for someone else, so we all just decided to cut the trip short. One night. No big deal."

One night, Jane thought, meant one less night with John. She glanced over at him and tried to smile. Funny how a mere twenty-four hours ago, Jane wouldn't have batted an eye at Nikki's news. Now she found it strangely disappointing.

"Jane, you still there?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I mean, I'm sorry you have to come back early. I wish there was something I could do for you," Jane went on. She truly did too.

"Don't worry. It'll be nice to be home again. And like I said, it's just one day. I just called to let you know. I was going to try to call you again tomorrow 'cause I thought you might be lonely, but I guess there's no chance of that now, huh?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "Talk to you later, Nikki." Jane turned off the phone and set it on the counter. She poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and faced John once more.

"She's funny," he said softly.

"Yeah, she's a barrel full of laughs," Jane countered and grinned. "She told me she's coming home Saturday night. Her reservations got messed up."

John nodded, but from the look on his face, he didn't catch Jane's vague hinting.

Jane decided not to get into it now. They still had two whole days.

"So. What do you want to do today?"

John inched closer to her. "Come out with me."

Knowing that probably meant climbing buildings and trees in the park, Jane hesitated momentarily, then nodded. "Okay."

Smiling broadly once more, John grasped her hand, pulling her towards the door.

"What? Now?"

John glanced back at her. "Why not?"

Jane frowned, but then laughed. She set down her coffee cup, turned off the pot, and shook her head.

"You're right. Why not."

***

Just as Jane had suspected, they passed the afternoon in the park, mostly just walking around and taking in the scenery, but also climbing the occasional low-limbed tree. They stopped to listen to some street performers for awhile, then ate calzones from a street vendor for lunch. A snowball fight just as the sun was setting, soaked their clothes, and finally forced them to call it a day.

Jane paid for a cab because she was too cold to walk all the way back home and didn't want to wait to take a shower and get into something cozy and warmer. John was going to need another shower too if he was ever going to stop shivering. He looked miserably cold, but clearly happy. The cab's meter and radio had piqued his interest, and reminded Jane of the first time she'd ridden in a cab by herself.

"I was nine years old," Jane told John. "I was supposed to go from school to a friend's house which was in the Village. My mother couldn't drive me because she had to work late, so she gave me money for cab fare and wrote down the address for me to give to the driver. It turned out the driver couldn't read and barely spoke English and took me to the wrong house. Luckily the people there were nice enough to drive me to my friend's house. I was so scared. I was crying hysterically the whole time. I thought I was lost forever."

John peered back at her sympathetically.

"I got lost once too," he said softly. "I was hungry, and I went too far from the place that I knew. There were gorillas. Seven of them. They let me follow them, and led me to water. I ate what they did, and slept close to them that night. They took care of me. I was lucky just like you."

Jane gaped back at John in awe. His tale was ten times more horrific than hers was, yet he relayed it with the same nonchalance she had. Jane swallowed down the tightening lump in her throat and reached over to take John's hand.

"How old were you?" she questioned, her mind struggling with the unimaginable terrors John had been subjected to as a child.

John shrugged and looked a little embarrassed. "I don't know. I was still small--like him." He gestured out the window at a young boy on the sidewalk holding his mother's hand as they walked into a corner market.

Jane took a deep breath. "God....It's no wonder you're not afraid of anything now," she pointed out, trying to lighten the moment.

Lowering his gaze, John shook his head. "I am afraid," he stated solemnly, all expression fading from his face.

Jane stared back at him. She opened her mouth to ask what that one thing was, but then John looked up at her as if in anticipation of her question, fixing his eyes on hers in a piercing gaze that said it all.

Squeezing his hand, Jane nodded slowly. "I'm afraid of losing you too," she confessed and snuggled closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder, and letting him hold her the rest of the way home.

***

In a chivalric gesture, John insisted Jane shower first, and passed the time looking at some old photograph albums Jane had shown him. When it came to his turn, John took a change of clothes into the bathroom with him: a pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt to lounge in for the rest of the night, and closed the door securely behind him.

Jane cooked dinner while John showered. She made a vegetable and chicken stir-fry recipe, thinking John might like it because it was similar to Chinese food, and it was chunky, so he could eat it with his fingers if he preferred--which he did, but with a surprising delicacy.

The remainder of the evening was spent perusing the photo albums again, while listening to some of Jane's favorite jazz CDs. Jane showed John how to work the player, which, like the phone, thrilled him to no end. He picked out a CD and put it on, pausing to listen to the first few strains of music with his ear next to the subwoofer, then he climbed to his feet and held out his hand to Jane.

"What?" Jane questioned, staring up at him expectantly.

"Teach me how to dance."

Jane's eyes grew wider at his request, then she shook her head and looked away from him coyly. Out of all the songs he could have chosen, this was a soft, smooth melody with lots of sultry saxophones.

"I'm not that good a dancer, John."

He cocked his head dubiously and flashed her an encouraging smile. "You'll be better at it then me." He bent down and took her hand, pulling her to her feet.

In moments, Jane was imprisoned in his arms, staring up into his eyes like a deer caught in the headlights, feeling the long, lean line of his body pressed tightly to hers.

"Is this right?" John asked, indicating the position of his hands.

Jane blinked back at him a few times and tried to smile. She made some minor adjustments and inched away from him slightly.

"Like this," she whispered and started to move. "Listen to the music and just sway with it for now. Gently, slowly, don't get ahead of it." Jane glanced down to monitor the position of their feet. "Okay, now take a tiny step forward and I'll take a step back and we'll keep doing this in a little circle. Stay close to me. Keep in time with the music."

John moved just as Jane instructed, completing his first circle with a natural grace and rhythm that was denied most men Jane had danced with. Before the first song ended, they had danced their way around the perimeter of the living room. By the middle of the CD, they were dancing like two seasoned veterans of the ballroom circuit.

Content to let him do all the leading, Jane nestled her head against John's shoulder, leaning against him now as he rocked her slowly back and forth. Closing her eyes, she could almost picture herself in a pearl-studded gown, snuggled against John on a dimly-lit dance floor; him in a tuxedo, his long hair drawn back with a black ribbon, meriting the wistful eyes of every woman in the club.

"Are you planning on taking me out dancing now?" Jane murmured softly.

John brushed his cheek against Jane's hair. "Now?" He thought about it for a moment. Then: "If you want to."

"God, you really are fearless, aren't you?" Jane said and grinned. "But maybe not right now. It's getting late." She forced herself to step away from John, and then stretched. "After all that carousing in the fresh air we did today, I gotta tell you, I'm beat. I think I'm going to go to bed now." She gestured at the now silent CD player. "You're welcome to stay up if you'd like. Listen to some more music if you want."

John peered over at Jane indecisively for a moment, gnawing his lower lip fitfully. "No. I'll go to bed too," he abruptly announced.

Jane furrowed her brow. He didn't seem the least bit tired. In fact, he looked like he had just had a shot of adrenaline. She shook her head.

"You can stay up, really. You can even go out, if you want. It's all right with me, honest."

For a long while, John stared back at her intensely. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but then wasn't quite sure how. Finally, he cleared his throat, lowered his eyes, and spoke.

"Where will you sleep?" Tentatively, he raised his eyes to hers, took a breath, and seemed to hold it in anticipation.

Jane understood what he was really asking now, but decided to coax him along a little to see how he'd react. "In my room. Why?"

John looked immediately disappointed. He bowed his head and turned away from her. "I was just wondering," he murmured.

Going to him, Jane turned him around to face her again and reached up to brush the hair from his eyes. "What were you wondering?"

Taking several deep breaths, John toyed the hem of his shirt and dropped his gaze to the floor.

"If I could sleep with you again," he stated and glanced briefly up at her to gage any initial reactions from her expression.

"All right," Jane said, before her rationality got in the way.

She took his hand and led him into the bedroom, taking comfort in the fact that, just as she had told Nikki earlier, when John said 'sleep', he actually meant sleep. He wasn't one to mince words and tonight, Jane was grateful for being able to take what he said at face value.

Still somewhat stunned at the ease in which Jane had given in to his request, John stood just inside the room, looking around as if it were the first time he'd ever seen it before. Jane pulled down the blankets and smoothed out the sheets.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked, aware of the fact she was only wearing a nightgown, but it was too late to turn him away now.

"I'm sure," John quickly answered and stepped forward.

Jane smiled at him. "Well, which side do you want?"

John's eyes flitted to the full-sized bed and shrugged. "The side by the door?"

Understanding, Jane climbed onto the bed and scooted to the side against the wall. She laid down and settled herself beneath the covers, then looked up at John and patted the empty side of the mattress encouragingly.

He stood unmoving however, an indiscernible bevy of emotions flickering in his eyes. There was a certain longing in them held in check by his uncertainty as if he still couldn't quite believe he truly had her consent.

Last night had been different. He had acted out of concern which forced him to make the decision on his own despite the possible retributions he thought he'd be subjected to in the morning.

Jane couldn't blame him. She had kept him at bay for so long now--even going so far as to one time banning all physical contact between them. She realized now, she had made him afraid. Afraid of making a mistake with her he believed he could not afford to make.

Jane sighed, then got an idea. She rubbed her arms briskly and pretended to shiver.

"John, are you going to sleep here or not? I'm getting cold." She stared up at him expectantly.

For a moment, Jane thought she had him fooled. He stepped forward, a shadow of concern furrowing his brow, but then he smiled sweetly, knowingly. A second later, he practically leapt onto the bed, tackling her, and playfully gathering her into his arms. Wrestling with him, Jane rolled with him almost off the side, and tickled him in retribution.

His laughter was like music to her ears. He hardly ever laughed. His life hadn't given him much reason to. She was glad she had given him a reason.

"Stop," he demanded breathlessly, after pinning Jane to the mattress and holding her arms to her sides.

Jane struggled half-heartedly, knowing she was no match for his strength and then admittedly enjoying her captivity too much to want to escape from him anyway.

"I'll stop," she promised. "You behave. No more wrestling. No more tickling."

"I'll behave," he promised back. "Go to sleep. You're tired."

Jane couldn't argue with that. She was tired. Her eyes were growing heavier each passing moment, and even though John's warm, firm body was draped rather seductively over hers, sleep was weighing heavily on her mind.

"Mmm, good night, John," she murmured.

She felt him rise off her and touch his lips to her forehead.

"Good night, Jane," he whispered back, and curled around her side.

Snuggling against him, Jane closed her eyes, thinking how sweet it was not to have to struggle through any explanations or misunderstanding. For once, their feelings were perfectly synchronized.