In my bed. Zette blinked, totally surprised by the softly spoken reply. Then she laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement. She couldn't help it. Her in his bed? He had to be kidding. "Oh, that's a good one," she chuckled. "You want me to sleep with you and you'll agree to hold the concert? That's..." she trailed off, her amusement getting the better of her. "Even for you JJ, that's taking the piss!" But he wasn't laughing. Her smile died away as he looked at her steadily, not even a smile gracing his lips. Just that hard look on his face. A look she recognised. It was the one he wore when he'd set his mind on something, and would stop at nothing to get it. "You're not joking. You've gotta be kidding me! What is this ... some sort of blackmail? You are aware this is the twenty-first century aren't you?" "No, I'm not joking and I'm quite aware of the date thank you. But this isn't blackmail—" She cut him off with a derisive snort. "Not blackmail huh? Sorry buddy, but from where I'm standing it looks an awful lot like blackmail." His face was like granite, his eyes unreadable.
