Title: Always Second

Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen

Fandom: Eureka

Characters: Douglas Fargo

Warnings: None

Spoilers: Not really, but up to One Time At Space Camp just to be sure.

Rating: T for reference.

Summary: The morning after "Let It Be in Zero G", Fargo returns to GD early in the morning to ensure Zane hadn't been up to his old tricks the night before. Of course, when he realizes Zane had been up to *new* tricks, it's just that much more horrifying.

Disclaimer: Eureka obviously doesn't belong to me, I just like to borrow the characters and mutate their inner voices. Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in my arse, but they're all I have.

A/N: If you're into J/Z smut, it's best to read Let it be In Zero G first. If you're not… well, the first chapter is pretty safe and gives you a good idea of what's to come. :P~ This takes place the morning after, and although admittedly not one of my best works, made me giggle. Thought I'd take a break from the Jo/Zane massive fic I'm working on to share my giggle fit with the rest of you. I suppose it's a bit of a crack!fic, so don't take it too seriously, and enjoy. :D

~~~E~~~

It was early morning when Fargo entered the Global Dynamics building. He nodded briefly to a security guard and made his way across the rotunda to the elevators. The sun had barely risen over the horizon and the hallways were quiet, most of Eureka's more prominent scientific community still at home dreaming of future Nobel Prize ceremonies. Normally he wouldn't put in quite as much effort, but after giving Zane free reign over the Astraeus training labs the night before, Fargo had awoken early from the grips of a string of vivid nightmares, with the sudden urge to make sure everything was as it should be.

Images of flight suits making their own way across town powered by nanobots or miniature Tinys came to mind, and Fargo's heart sped up in his chest. Even knowing that Zane was changing, even liking him, respecting him on some level, his history begged prudence, and that was one thing Fargo had in spades.

14B was the last place he entered, duly impressed that every single piece of equipment was back in it's proper place, completely undisturbed by Zane's night in the lab. Relaxation spread through Fargo's body and a small smile curved his lips as he eyed the Zero Gravitational Modulator resting peacefully before him.

A quick tap on the panel had the door to the modulator sliding open. Fargo figured he had at least fifteen minutes before any of the techs arrived on shift, which gave him a good tem minutes to play before he had to don the persona of Director Fargo and spend the day being serious.

He stepped into the ZGM, grinning as he remembered floating from end to end the day before. Before this was turned over to NASA after the Astraeus launch, Fargo was determined to try the machine one more time, perhaps this time a little more prepared than he'd been the last. The look on Parrish's face when he realized Fargo had been the first to try the ZGM, on purpose that is, would be worth calling Zane in after hours to power up the machine and let Fargo have his moment, without the laughter that had come the day before. And if he could convince Holly Marten to join him… that would drive Parrish into the ground, and Fargo figured at that point his life would be complete. No one had ever had sex in zero gravity, there was not a single report from any mission detailing any one of those astronauts had deviated from their mission to join the epitome of the mile high club; and let's face it, a guy's a guy. No guy could ever be able to resist bragging about it, so Fargo was pretty sure that it had never happened. He would be the first, a pioneer, one small step for mankind, one giant leap for Douglas Fargo.

He was grinning like a fool when a small white object in the center of the sphere caught his attention. He walked around the machine, running a loving finger over the cool metal that made up the interior, but curiosity got the better of him, and he moved towards it, tensing as he prepared for some kind of explosive prank. Instead, he realized it was simply a pillow, left behind when Zane packed up to leave.

"A pillow?" Fargo frowned, shaking his head. "What'd he need a pillow for in here?"

As he lifted it from the ground, a small scrap of paper floated free from the casing, and Fargo was dead positive Zane had left it here purposely for him to find.

Unable to stop himself, he unfolded the small note, reading the words slowly, his jaw dropping in shock. A shudder of unadulterated disgust coursed through him, and unable to help himself, he squealed.

Maybe he shrieked.

Who was he kidding?

Fargo screamed like an 11 year old girl as he threw the pillow to the ground, rubbing his hands on his suit jacket and stumbled as he fled out of the modulator. His fingers unerringly found his PDA, calling up the emergency containment protocol contact list.

In seconds every PDA possessed by a member of the maintenance crew was buzzing, the level and room information blinking in red, followed by the words, "Immediate decontamination procedures required!"

Crews arrived in minutes, and Fargo stood back as they filled the small lab. Unable to voice his horror, Fargo merely gestured wildly at the sphere, his fingers stretching between the decontamination equipment and the open door to the ZGM. Understanding his unspoken command, the crews filled the sphere with reams of corrosive foam, washing away any and all evidence of the night before. Whispers about the mental stability of the head of Global Dynamics went largely unheard over the hum of machinery, but when the crews had finished, the interior gleamed as though it had never been touched.

The head of maintenance approached Fargo, tipping his hat to the Director.

"All cleaned out, Sir. Will there be anything else?"

Fargo simply shook his head as he continued to stare at the sphere in disgust. "Not unless you can authorise a complete clean burn."

The man chuckled politely, knowing that his boss could authorize whatever was required and took the statement as rhetorical. He called his crew out; whether he understood the Director's odd mood or not, their job was complete and they had a task list a mile long to get to before the day ended.

In moments, Fargo was left alone. Alone in the room he'd just had sanitized. Alone in the room with the sphere that Zane had made it necessary to sanitize. He shuddered, his train of thought making him wonder if it was too late to call in an incineration team after all.

He'd been an idiot.

It should've been obvious.

Zane was, and always would be, Zane.

Of course Zane had… well, done what he had in there. Of course he had, and Fargo was reasonably certain with whom. Although he really had no doubt, Fargo lifted his tablet, intending to open the security logs to find out exactly what time Jo Lupo had left the building.

It was then that he realized he was still holding the note, crumpled violently in one hand. It's words, as though alive, sprung back to life, first and foremost in his mind.

"Dessert's even better in zero g. Z"

Fargo's teeth ground together silently.

He should have Donovan arrested. After all, *he* was the Director of Global Dynamics; why'd Zane always get to do the cool stuff first?

~~Fin~~