"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 THREE ~ The Way Home

Kathleen Clayton was on the phone. Jane had let John answer it again, which gave him the opportunity to joyfully explain this exciting new activity to his aunt. He had insisted she call more often and then he had asked her if she had a CD player.

Jane was on the phone with her now, sitting across the kitchen table from John, watching him finish off the last egg roll from the Chinese take-out they'd picked up for lunch.

"What's this about a CD player?" Kathleen asked, sounding as if she suspected Jane was somehow corrupting her nephew with the wrong kind of technology.

"Oh, I think he wants one now that he knows how to use them," Jane told her nonchalantly. "I showed him how to work mine last night. You might want to consider getting him one."

"I'll do that," Kathleen said placatingly, and quickly changed the subject. "I'll be home on the red-eye Sunday. Everything went as good as can be expected on this end, so I thought I'd come back early. I've already talked to Mary and she's getting the house ready. It will be good to be back. I miss John. I can't stop wondering how he's doing."

"He's doing fine," Jane stated, a little defensively. "He's learning things and he's enjoying himself. We're finally getting to spend some time together, and it's really brought us closer."

Kathleen sighed. "Really? And just how much 'closer' have you two become?"

Jane felt her cheeks flush with heat. She knew what Kathleen Clayton was really asking.

"I know you think it's somehow your business, but it's not," Jane stated coolly. "John's an adult. He's not a child, and he doesn't appreciate being treated like one. That was Richard's mistake."

Kathleen fairly growled over the phone at the mention of her brother's name. "How dare you compare me to Richard? Richard treated John like an animal." She paused and took a deep, steadying breath. "John may not be a child, but he is an innocent. He sees things as they are. He doesn't look for deeper meanings. What seems obvious to you, may seem like something entirely different to him....I just don't want to see him get hurt by some misunderstanding."

Jane squeezed her eyes tightly shut and counted to ten before replying.

"I don't know why I'm getting so defensive. I guess it's because you think I'm selfish enough to risk hurting him, and it's not like that at all. Not after all we've been through. What you and I have been through for him. You love him just like I--"

Jane cut herself off, aware of John's eyes on her. She cleared her throat, and tried to smile at him, but failed miserably.

"Kathleen, I have to go."

There was a long moment of silence before Kathleen responded.

"Look, you're right. I don't know what I was thinking. I'll see you and John on Sunday."

Jane swallowed down the knot tightening her throat. "All right. Good-bye." With that, she hung up the phone.

Jane should have been relieved knowing her life would soon be back to normal, but strangely, she wasn't. Before, the prospect of having John live with her--even for a few days--had plunged her into panic attacks. Instead, these past few days had shown Jane all her fears were unwarranted. She had discovered that living with John was not only doable, but enjoyable. The day after tomorrow, John would go back to Kathleen's, and Nikki would come home, and Jane would return to work Monday. Things would be back to normal, but maybe Jane didn't want things back to 'normal' anymore.

Slowly, John rose from his chair and knelt beside Jane, taking her hand in both of his.

"What's wrong? Your face. It's sad."

Jane forced a more genuine smile, and blinked back at him cheerfully. "I'm fine," she told him and stood up, pulling her hand free. She gathered up the empty plates and took them over to the sink to soak and picked up a dish towel to dry what was already in the rack.

Still kneeling on the floor, John watched her closely, the look of concern he was giving her growing more solemn.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said tightly.

Taking a deep breath, Jane turned around to face him. "Your aunt's coming back the day after tomorrow. You'll get to go home."

John's expression of concern withered into one of confusion. "But I don't want to go back there. I want to stay with you."

Jane put her hands on her hips. Clearly he was going to make this hard for her.

"Well, you can't. These past few days have been great and I mean that. We've had a lot of fun, and we have learned a lot about each other. I think what we shared helped strengthen what we had before. It was wonderful...really, but as they say, all good things must come to an end."

"I don't want it to end."

Jane didn't particularly want it to end now either, but she didn't want him to know that. If he detected her true feelings, she might never get him to go back to his aunt's. But she had meant what she said, and she hoped John believed her.

"You knew you would have to go back eventually," Jane pointed out to him. "You knew from the start this was only for a few days. You can't stay here, John. You have to go. Nikki will be back tomorrow too and she'll want her room again."

John licked his lips, his eyes gently pleading. "I'll sleep in your bed. With you. You said it was nice. You don't have to send me away if you don't want to." He paused momentarily and took a deep breath. "I like holding you when you sleep, and I like waking up with you in the morning. It feels right. I belong here, Jane--with you. I want to eat your kind of food and hear your music and learn more new things. I thought you wanted these things too."

Jane's eyes started to burn and water at the poignancy of John's plea. He was opening his heart to her now, but something kept Jane from opening hers to him. There was so much she wanted to tell him just then. If only she had the courage to reveal to him the way she truly felt--not what she tried to convey for the sake of propriety. All those deepening truths she could scarcely acknowledge to herself, but could not possibly deny. She longed to go to him, and take his hands, and shout her feelings from the rooftops of New York, but she just couldn't. Not yet.

"It's...not that I want you to go away, John," she explained, keeping her tone level and cool. "You just have to. That's the way it has to be."

"Why?" John demanded forcefully, rising to his feet. He smashed his fist on the table as he did, rattling the remaining dishes and actually cracking the wood. He seemed to take no notice of it however, and towered over Jane, seething in frustration and confusion. "You always choose what you don't want. I don't understand! If you want me here, why won't you let me stay?"

John's sudden and violent outburst zapped Jane's patience and sparked her own temper. She stormed over to her table, shoving him back, and examined the dented crack.

"Damn it, John!" Jane threw down her dish towel and turned around to confront him. "I'm trying to do what's right, and if you're going to act like this, I don't want you to stay here! You think just because you want something you should have it. Well, it doesn't work that way. For anybody. You can't have everything you want, so grow up, and learn to control yourself, and your wild childish behavior, and then maybe we'll talk about you and me. Okay?"

As imposing a figure as John was, he seemed to shrink before Jane's eyes. For a long time he didn't move. He didn't even blink. He just stared at her, stricken. Jane stared back at him, her temper fizzling under the pained look in his eyes.

"Listen," Jane began softly. "I didn't really mean that the way it sounded--"

But John shook his head, as if refusing to listen. He lowered his eyes, clearly unwilling to even look at Jane now, and took one hesitant step past her, then dashed out of the kitchen.

Jane knew in that instant she had hurt John the same way she had just sworn to his aunt she'd never do. Now he was leaving, obviously convinced she didn't want him, and would not tolerate having him around.

"John! Wait!" she called after him, racing after him into the bedroom.

But by the time Jane arrived, the only indication she had that he'd even been there was a cold, northerly wind which buffeted her face from the open window. John was no where to be found.

***

Jane spent the rest of the afternoon scrubbing the apartment from top to bottom for lack of anything better to do. She didn't want to go anywhere because she kept expecting John to show up on her window sill, as if nothing had happened--tattered and grimy from his adventures on the streets, wanting to shower and crawl into bed with her for the night.

But the sun had long since set and John had not come back. Jane went into Nikki's room and gathered up his clothes to do a wash. She found the pastel blue sweater he had worn the first night he'd slept with her thrown over the back of a chair, and impulsively slipped it on. It wasn't the same as having his arms wrapped around her, but wearing it gave her some comfort. She peered at herself in the mirror attached to Nikki's dresser and frowned deeply.

Hadn't she proven to herself these past few days that having a real relationship with John was viable? It could have progressed nicely from this point if she had let it. Instead, just when she felt the barriers around her heart coming down, she reinforced them. Just when John had gotten closer to her than he'd ever been before, she pushed him away.

Jane sat down on the edge of Nikki's bed, her eyes watering and her throat constricting dryly.

"What am I afraid of?" she whispered to herself, wiping her moistening cheek with her palm.

She sat on the bed pondering the answer to her question, but twenty minutes later, she still hadn't come up with a suitable answer. The only thing left to consider was the fact Jane had never felt this strongly towards anyone before--not even Michael. She knew she had loved Michael, but her feelings for John were so powerful at times, Jane did not recognize them as simply being love. Maybe it was the same fear of the unknown she had experienced before, only now, it wasn't John who was unknown to her. It was her own heart.

***

Jane woke the next morning after a restless night's sleep. After only two nights together, it seemed strange to wake up alone. All night she had missed the solid warmth of John's body next to hers and the security of being wrapped in his strong arms. Her bed felt large and empty last night, and no matter what she did, she couldn't get comfortable in it. Spitefully, Jane hoped John had slept just as miserably as she had.

Throughout most of her morning routine, Jane half-expected John to show up. She made her coffee and nibbled her toast. She showered and dressed and read the paper. By ten-thirty, Jane concluded John must have gone back to the mansion, and reached for her car keys.

After all, wasn't she the one who needed to make amends? Maybe, if she went to him and apologized, and explained to him the irony of her anger yesterday, he would put what she had said to him in a proper perspective.

On her way to Kathleen Clayton's eastside residence, Jane rehearsed in her head just what she was going to say to John when she finally saw him.

"Okay, the reason I was angry was the same reason you were angry. Sometimes things are unfair and sometimes no matter how much you want something, you are powerless to change it and it gets frustrating."

But that didn't explain why she had said the things she did which drove him away.

"I was trying to convince you to go back, because you had to go back. There was nothing I could do about it and there was nothing you could do about it, so it was just better that you believed I didn't want you to stay...."

God, that sounded awful, but it was the truth. Or was it? She wanted John to stay, so why didn't she let him? She had let Michael stay with her on enough occasions. At the time it didn't matter if Nikki were home or not. Michael came and went as he pleased. He did everything John had done these past few days and more.

Jane nervously gnawed her fingernail as she rang the bell to the Clayton mansion. She recalled the night John had answered the door and hoped with all her might, he would again, but Kathleen's maid came to her summons instead.

Jane frowned, trying to look past Mary into the spacious foyer for a possible glimpse of John.

"Good morning," Mary greeted, but didn't appear as if she was having a good morning at all.

"Ah, good morning. Is John in, by chance?"

Mary narrowed her eyes. "I haven't seen him. But I haven't been on the third floor yet. He may be in."

"Would you mind if I have a look?" Jane asked, hopefully. She couldn't see any reason for Mary to mind as long as it didn't involve her.

Mary waved Jane inside, and closed the door behind her. She started towards the stairs, but Jane stopped her.

"I know the way."

Mary paused and let Jane pass her. "Suit yourself," she said, then turned, and disappeared into the parlor.

Jane jogged quickly up the remaining stairs, her heart pounding more from the prospect of seeing John than the exertion. The first place she searched was the likeliest--the atrium. She threw open the doors and called John's name, but could feel he wasn't around and hadn't been for sometime.

Less likely were the rooms inside the mansion where John kept his clothes and few meager childhood possessions. The rooms were dark and slightly musty-smelling as if they hadn't been aired in awhile. The contents looked as if they hadn't been disturbed since the last time Jane was here.

Obviously, when John had left Jane's apartment, he hadn't come here, which meant he was on the streets somewhere. Somewhere.

With new determination, Jane let herself out of the mansion, and started walking towards Central Park. She searched the grounds using a mental police grid of sorts, taking care to look into the treetops from time to time. Either she missed him or he wasn't in the park either.

Undaunted, Jane considered other places John frequented, and headed back towards her car to go check them out.

Her cell phone rang just as she slid inside and buckled her seatbelt. She answered, not paying attention to the Caller I.D. and was surprised to hear Sam Malone on the line.

"Jane. Jane. Jane," he grumbled, and Jane could almost picture him shaking his head. "I thought you'd like to know who showed up on my doorstep at five-fifty-five this morning looking like a beat puppy."

Jane's heart jumped to her throat. "Not John?"

"Yes, John," Sam countered. "Seems he needed a little manly advice on dealing with women." Sam paused and chuckled deeply. "He was messed up. A sorrier sight I never hope to see. I take it you two lovebirds had a little fight?"

Jane closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the carseat. "It wasn't really a fight. I said some things--"

"Well, whatever you said to him sent him crawling to me."

"Oh God. Keep him there, will you, Sam? I have to talk to him."

"He left."

Jane's hope sunk. She sat forward. "Left? Well, where did he go? Did he say anything?"

"Not much," Sam told her, his voice taking on a sympathetic tone. "What he did say, I had to pry out of him. At first, I thought something had happened to you, but he kept saying something about being lost and he had that look in his eye, like his whole world had just been turned upside down. I didn't think he was talking about you, but I had a feeling you were somehow behind it all. Quite frankly, he didn't make a whole lot of sense to me. Does any of this make sense to you?"

Jane bit her lower lip and nodded automatically. "He thinks I'm lost," she answered numbly. John had told her that losing her was the one thing he truly feared.

"Whatever," Sam huffed. "I told him not to worry so much about it, and to just give you a few days to cool down. He told me Nikki had said that about you too. Obviously, at some point, he must have sought her counsel too. He wants to make this work between you two, Jane, and he's willing to do a little legwork to get the inside scoop on how to go about it. I kinda admire him for that."

"Oh Sam. I've got to find him," Jane moaned. "Do you have any idea where he might have been going?"

"Mmm, sorry. I just called you 'cause I thought this was something you should know."

Jane smiled feebly. "At least now you know he considers you a friend," she sighed.

"Is that a good thing?"

"They don't come any better," Jane replied sincerely.

"Well, I felt sorry for the kid. He didn't know which way was up. Love'll do that to a guy. Messes you up inside."

Jane's smile widened. "Thanks Sam. I owe you another one."

"I'll just add it to your tab," he replied and laughed lightly.

Jane hung up the phone and started the ignition.

***

By late afternoon, Jane decided either she wasn't looking in the right places, or John was avoiding her. Searching a city the size of New York made both prospects likely.

She had parked her car on a side street, and continued on foot, keeping her eyes turned up for the most part, and calling out John's name in the back alleys from time to time. If anything, she was letting him know where she was, if he didn't already.

Shadows on the streets were growing longer, and the remaining hours of daylight were fading into dusk. Jane headed back towards her car, keeping in mind she had to pick Nikki up at the airport in a few hours. If she went home now, she'd have time to make herself something to eat, shower, and change into some fresh clothes before heading out. There was still the chance John would show up at her place for the night, or maybe even tomorrow morning.

Jane tried not to worry. Maybe John was just taking Sam's advice. Maybe he was making himself scarce to give her time to 'cool off'. It wouldn't be the first time. But even then, John had come to her when Jane had called to him. If he knew she was searching for him, surely that would tell him she wanted him back.

Rounding the corner to get back on the street where she had left her car, Jane was confronted by an unwelcome sight. Four young men were loitering around her car, smoking cigarettes and passing around a brown-bagged bottle. Jane didn't think they were gang members--she didn't recognize any tell-tale signs, but they were obviously delinquents, and the fact they had all but made themselves at home sitting on her car, was not going to make this easy or pleasant for her.

Taking a deep breath, Jane fished out her badge, unsnapped the holster of her gun, and started forward.

A knowing silence descended on the four youths as Jane approached. Then the whistles and catcalls started.

"All right, gentlemen," Jane stated flatly. "Time to move along. Go find yourselves another park bench to sit on."

Undeterred by the badge, the young men started baiting her with lewd propositions. The closer Jane got, the more obnoxious they became and the louder they got.

This was the one thing about being a woman on the police force, Jane despised, and that was not being taken seriously. Here she was, waving an N.Y.P.D. badge under their noses, but all these men saw was an attractive piece who was about to make them all lucky in the back seat of her car.

One of the bolder men made a move towards her, and Jane drew her gun. She wasn't playing around and they needed to know this.

"It's not worth it, boys," she warned. "You accost a police officer, and you're going to find yourselves in way more trouble than you bargained for."

Unfortunately, all four of them seemed too drunk, or high, to give a damn at the moment.

"Give me your keys, baby, and we'll take you for a ride," the shortest one taunted. "You know you want to."

Jane shifted the gun on him. The other three advanced. Apparently they believed even with the gun, the four of them could still overpower her.

"Goddamnit! Don't make me shoot you!" Jane snapped, thinking more of the ensuing investigations and paperwork such an incident would require and less of actually pulling the trigger.

She had to stay calm. She couldn't let them see even the slightest hint of fear on her part even though her insides were twisting into knots. There were too many factors against her however. She fired off a warning shot, and for a moment, all four of them froze. Then they rushed her.

Jane re-aimed and shot the closest one in the right shoulder. He spun to the ground screaming while the remaining three surrounded Jane. She got in some good hits, but they were fueled by lust, and numbed by the alcohol they had consumed. One of the heavier youths got Jane's gun away from her as the other two searched her pockets, pulled out her keys, and dragged her towards the car.

Struggling for all she was worth, Jane managed to kick the car door close, counting on their lack of coordination to make things even more difficult for them. Her heart was racing in her ears, but in the distance she could hear approaching sirens. Someone, somewhere, had called the cops on her behalf, or at the very least, to get these drunken rowdies out of their neighborhood.

Far be it for anyone to actually interfere, Jane thought bitterly, knowing a lot could happen in the time before the police arrived. They had her gun. They could get her to cooperate if they wanted her too. Maybe, in this case, the fact they were too stupidly intoxicated to realize this, was in Jane's favor.

Something popped loudly in Jane's ears, startling her. At first she thought the guy holding the gun had fired it, but everyone was staring up, open-mouthed in a sort of dumbfounded silence. Jane looked up too.

On the now severely dented roof of her car, John was rising to his feet, his eyes scanning the faces of the three men holding Jane, as if daring one to make the first move. To Jane's horror, the heavy youth with her gun raised it and pointed it right at John's chest.

John did not wait for him to fire however, and launched himself from the car roof like a leopard springing after its prey. Together they crashed to the street in a blur of movement, scattering the remaining two delinquents. They released Jane in a panic, which allowed her to take down the one nearest her with a couple of well-aimed kicks and an elbow to the face. John made short work of the one he had been grappling with, and jumped after the only one left standing, even though he had been trying to flee. John brought him down effortlessly, and pounded his face until he slumped against the asphalt in a limp and bloody heap.

Jane recovered her gun and reholstered it, looking around at the mayhem on the street. The sirens were deafeningly close now and the lights flashed erratically off the sides of the surrounding buildings. John shot a quick look at Jane, then hopped onto the closest fire escape and disappeared into the shadows. A moment later, two squad cars rolled up and three uniformed officers approached her.

After slapping handcuffs on the only perpetrator left conscious, Jane held up her badge and stepped towards the ranking police officer to explain what had happened. As his partner called for an ambulance, he questioned Jane thoroughly, and when he paused to write down the information she gave, Jane spared a glance upwards.

John was there, watching from the rooftop. At least he hadn't left her. But as usual, he would not stay and take credit for what he had done. Jane mentioned her mysterious benefactor to her interrogator, but also pointed out in the ensuing chaos, she could not get a good look at him and he had fled the scene as soon as her assailants were more or less under control.

After what seemed like an hour later, the four injured delinquents were taken away and Jane was free to go to file her own reports and charges, considering technically, she was the arresting officer.

Now she waited until the street was completely cleared, then pulled herself up the fire escape to find John.

***

John was sitting on the roof's scalloped molding, braced by his arms with his long legs dangling freely over the side. A myriad of city lights blazed in the background, casting his face in shadow, but his eyes glittered in the darkness, and locked on Jane's as she drew nearer.

"Thank you," she began hesitantly. "You dropped by at just the right time." She summoned a small smile. "Only, did you have to drop on my car? That'll cost me two weeks in a body shop." Her attempted levity fell flat however. She felt even more awkward when John simply slid off his perch and walked stiffly past her.

"You're welcome," he murmured to her and continued on to the other side of the roof.

Jane started after him. "John! Don't go! I've been looking for you all day! I need to talk to you."

John paused and peered over his shoulder at her curiously. "Looking for me?"

Apparently, he hadn't been avoiding her. With her heart pounding, Jane cleared her throat, and tried to remember the lines she had rehearsed in her car. Somehow, they didn't seem appropriate anymore.

"John...why did you leave yesterday?" she asked instead.

He seemed surprised by that question.

"You didn't want me to stay."

Jane nodded. "Yeah, I did. You knew I did. So why did you leave?"

John turned around to face her, his expression hardening. "'Cause I believed what you said!" His entire body visibly coiled up with tension. He clenched his fists tightly and bounced them off his chest in frustration. "Why do you do this to me? I don't understand!"

Jane tried to seize his hand, but he jerked away from her, his eyes flashing in anger.

"John, please," Jane whispered, pleadingly. She certainly wouldn't be able to explain anything to him if she couldn't get him to calm down and listen.

"No!" John snapped, moving away from her. "You need to leave."

Jane licked her lips apprehensively. "Is that what you really want? I'll leave you alone...if that's what you really want."

John shook his head. "It doesn't matter what I want. You said so yourself."

"It matters," Jane told him. "It is just that...you can't always have what you want. Neither can I. Things, just aren't that simple."

Pacing back and forth in front of the fire escape, John fixed his gaze on Jane, and scowled.

"It is simple when you know what you want," he countered, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction. "But you don't know what you want. Even when you do, you...ignore it."

Jane's chest tightened with emotion and she could feel the sting of tears in her eyes. This was a do-or-die moment. A turning point that would set the course for all their days to come. It was a time for honesty and openness as well as understanding. John needed to hear the truth, as much as Jane needed to confess it.

"Remember what I told you about what I want and what I know is right and how they don't always agree? Well, I know what I want, John," she stated quietly at first, her voice growing stronger along with her conviction. "And even though I'm not sure it's right, I've come to the conclusion I'm not doing either one of us a favor by denying it any longer. I told you I'm trying to keep our relationship on a certain path. Well, I think we reached a turn-off I just wasn't prepared for and didn't recognize." She paused, hoping with all her might she wasn't confusing John more with her talk about roads and turn-offs. The best thing to do now was simply come right out and say it. "In other words, I want you with me. Closer. I want us to be together"

John grew very still, then he turned his head slightly in Jane's direction. "I want that too."

Jane sighed, relieved. "Before, I was trying to face facts, and I just didn't see a way to make it work. I tried to explain that to you, but you wouldn't accept it because you knew how I really felt. Then, you have a tendency to only see things in black or white. You never stop to consider all the underlying complications."

"But now there is a way?"

"I think so." Jane reached in her coat pocket and pulled out a key. "Here. This is for you. It's the key to my apartment. You can let yourself in whenever you want--should you ever feel the urge to come through the front door." She summoned a smile and took a deep breath as John lifted the key from her outstretched hand. "You can sleep over if you'd like. You can eat meals with Nikki and me. You can even use my CD player. But...you still need to go home though. You can't live with me."

"Home?" John said and looked up at her as if he'd never heard the word before.

Edging closer to him, Jane nodded. "Home, John. Kathleen's. It's where you belong. It's your home. It belongs to you."

"Home is with you," John answered in a barely audible voice, turning away from Jane. "I have no other home."

Jane frowned. "Yes you do. That house belonged to you once," she went on. "It will again. Right now, you just have your rooms with your things, but that entire mansion and everything in...it actually belongs to you."

Shaking his head forcefully, John released his breath through his teeth in a billowy, icy cloud. "It all belongs to him."

Confused, Jane turned John back around to face her. "Your uncle?" she asked, but then thought maybe he meant his father.

John's upper lip curled back in a snarl of derision. He twisted free of Jane's grasp and dragged his hands through his disheveled hair.

"Don't you see? You'll never learn about me if I have to stay there. None of it's mine! The things in those rooms--they were his. John Clayton Junior's. But I am not him. I'm not John. I'm Tarzan. And nothing belongs to me."

Momentarily stunned by his declaration, Jane stood unable to move as the significance of his words registered in her brain. She stared up at him, helplessly, watching the sorrow rise in his moistening eyes. She opened her mouth to speak his name, but stopped herself.

"You're wrong," she breathed, leaning towards him. "I can think of things that belong to you. Like your house, things that are yours, you probably aren't even aware of."

John watched Jane dubiously as she reached up and traced the strip of leather around his neck which held his locket. Then she lifted his hand and opened his fingers to show him the key she had just given him.

Staring deeply into his eyes, Jane grasped his face in her hands, sliding her fingers into his hair and gently pulled him towards her.

"And I belong to you, Tarzan," she whispered.

She turned her head and at first, merely touched his lips with hers, then opened her mouth and kissed him caressingly, sinking her lips down on the smooth fullness of his mouth with gently increasing pressure until he began to respond.

Clearly tensing more from shock, than from being kissed, John hesitantly placed his hands on Jane's shoulders, closed his eyes, and let her manipulate his mouth the first few moments. Then slowly, the tension in his body faded, and he followed her lead, opening his mouth and turning his head to slide his lips wetly over hers. He moaned softly and sweetly, as his kiss became more passionate, but with an almost intentional tenderness. His hands shifted, moving to her back, drawing her body closer to deepen the kiss more.

Jane moaned too, caught up in the rapture of John's embrace. She meant what she had said, and at that moment, felt ready to surrender herself completely to his desires. This time, she had recognized the turn in their path and had taken it with new confidence.

Seized with the sudden urge to gaze into John's eyes, Jane pressed her palms lightly against his chest and leaned back.

John blinked back at her for a few seconds as if slightly disoriented. Then he locked his eyes on hers, taking in her beaming smile and slowly smiled back, emitting a somewhat breathless sigh.

Jane's cell phone rang, muffled inside the pocket of her jacket, but still making both of them jump, startling them more less back down to earth. Jane rolled her eyes, and fished out the phone, then flipped it open, and pressed it to her ear.

"Oh! Nikki! I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed a moment later. "Of course I didn't forget about you." Jane let Nikki complain while John slipped his arms around her and began nuzzling her hair. Jane grinned and closed her eyes, savoring his attention. "I said I was sorry. I got a little wrapped up in what I was doing, but I'm on my way right now. I promise."

She turned off her phone, and replaced it in her pocket, then turned around to face John.

"I need to go get Nikki at the airport. She's been waiting, and she'd kind of upset." Jane paused and took a deep breath, staring wistfully into John's eyes. "I don't want to. But I have to go."

"I know," John said quietly. "Let me come with you."

Jane raised her brow. "To the airport? Are you sure?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

Considering it, Jane shrugged and smiled. She reached out and took John's hand and squeezed it. "You know, I could probably use a big strong guy like you to help carry all of her luggage."

John grinned and lifted Jane's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "I want to help."

Pulling him closer, Jane leaned forward. "You can spend the night too. You can sleep in my bed, with me," she murmured hopefully.

Surprisingly, John shook his head, locking his eyes on Jane's. "No. I need to go home."

"Go home? You mean, come home with me?" Jane questioned, not certain she'd heard him right, and definitely not expecting him to want to leave her anytime soon.

"To Kathleen's," John corrected. "I need to be there--be home, when she gets back." He paused and offered Jane a knowing smile, turning his head, and slowly closing his eyes. "She'll need help with her luggage too." Bending towards her, he captured her mouth with his and kissed her with an effortless sensuality that made Jane's toes curl.

Jane obligingly kissed him back, understanding his newfound sense of belonging completely, and pleased to know, he understood his belongings too.

END