A/N: Just a one shot written for some of my LJ friends and which will hopefully inspire others to dabble into the mysterious existence of that infamous rope.
Come on people, we all know they had that rope handy for another reason than just to tie up Phil one day.
Hope you enjoy it, it's not nearly half as smutty as it should be, in fact, it's not smutty at all, I think, it's merely suggestive.

Reviews are more than welcome and appreciated.

She sighed heavily as she looked out the window, another rainy afternoon in Dharmaville. She wasn't used to this much domesticity anymore, she couldn't believe she actually missed the time when she spent her days running away from smoke monsters, flaming arrows and time travelling.

She had been living in Dharmaville for a year now and with James for half of that time, the novelty of eating cooked meals every day, sleeping in a real bed at night and being able to shower whenever she wanted had worn about a fortnight ago, something was missing in her life, and that something was a little excitement.

It was rather odd in fact, since she had always been the quiet child, the kind of person who was more than content to curl up in a corner and read a book, but this place, this island, had changed her. It had given her the strength to reach out of her comfort zone and dare a little more, live a little more.

If anyone had told her years ago that she would end up on an island where she would have to learn Latin, master martial arts and shoot a gun, she would have sent them on a consult with her good friend from Medical School Sheila, who had specialised in psychiatry.

It had been raining cats and dogs all day. Usually on the island the weather changed incredibly fast going from thunder storms to scorching sunlight in a matter of minutes, but not today. She had woken up to the pitter patter of raindrops against the window sill and then the rain had just gotten heavier and heavier throughout the day.

She had straightened up the house, done all the laundry and had a long bath, and it was still early afternoon, she had nothing to do, and she was bored out of her mind.

She set her empty tea mug down on the table next to the settee and sunk further into the cushions. Mindlessly she started taping her fingers in rhythm against the hard wood of the table. Tap, tap, tap.

James, who was sitting next to her, cleared his throat, but she kept on taping her fingers against the table as if it were a piano.

"Will you cut that out already," he eventually burst out.

"Sorry," she said under her breath.

He returned to the book he was reading, but his peace didn't last very long, less than five minutes later, the nerve wrecking taping noise started again. Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Juliet," he stressed, looking at her with annoyance over the top of his glasses.

"I'm sorry, I've been stuck in the house all day, I guess, I'm just bored."

"Well do something," he said and then gesturing towards the bookshelf, "Read a damn book."

"Read them all," she replied casually.

He looked at her in utter disbelief, "I was here for three years, James, before you lot came along, as a matter of fact I lived three doors down from this house. I have read every single book on that bookshelf and many more that haven't been written yet."

"Read one again," he sighed out of exasperation.

"What's the point? I know how it will end."

"Fine, whatever, suit yourself, just keep the noise down, will'ya."

She glared at him and said flatly, "I could tell you who the murderer is"

"You wouldn't dare," he muttered as he returned to his novel.

"How about a game of scrabble?" She suggested.

"No."

"I'll let you win," she offered.

He set his book down on the table and looked into her blue eyes, "First of all, you know better than anyone else that I don't need any help to put your MD licence to shame at scrabble, and I'm busy, I'm reading this book." He picked up the book again and used it to fan her face.

"Fine," she said, slightly irritated. "Hope you enjoy yourself."

She lifted herself up from the settee and went into the bedroom.

"Women," he sighed.

He barely had had the time to finish the chapter he was reading when she called out his name, "James?"

"What?" he shot back.

"Can you come in here for a minute?" she asked.

"Why?"

"Now."

There was no point in arguing, he knew he would eventually cave in, and by complying to her desires now, he was just saving a hell of a lot of time.

He padded into their bedroom, and peered around the room but he couldn't see her.

Before he knew what had hit him, he heard the door slam behind him and her weight against his body as she pounced on him and pushed him down on to the bed.

She pulled out a rope from behind her back and expertly tied his wrists to the bedpost.

"Gee, Blondie, if I had know this was the kind of scrabble you had in mind, I would have been more cooperative," he said suggestively.

"Shut up," she snapped as she pulled the knots tighter.

The dryness of her tone aroused him, "I love it when you talk to me like that."

She straddled him and kissed him hard and roughly on the mouth, "I thought I had told you to shut up."

She slowly ran her hand up and down his torso under his shirt, grazing his skin a bit with her nails, he shuddered under her touch. She carelessly pulled her top off and tossed it to the far side of the room and began undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, kissing each bit of newly revealed skin on her way.

When she reached his navel, she paused, and started unbuckling his belt, as slowly and seductively as she possibly could.

The wait was quickly becoming excruciatingly unbearable for James, who wanted nothing more that to rip himself free from the rope and pull her underneath him, but she was adamant about making things last.

"Juliet," he pleaded.

She lead down and whispered into his ear, "But James, anticipation is half the fun."

What was he to do? He was tied up, and she was the boss of him, especially when she talked to him in that unbelievably cool tone of hers, he could do nothing but obey her every order -he was powerless.

So he lay back and gave into her every wish.

With Juliet, it was different from what it had been like with all the other women he had slept with. First of all, he was not just sleeping with Juliet, they made love, it wasn't just about pleasure, it was about sharing, being together, being closer to another human being than he thought was possible.

With his other conquests -or at least with most of them, it had been all about pleasuring them, making sure they were satisfied, in order to make sure his con went smoothly.

With Kate, it had been rushed, angry, desperate and sometimes fuelled by jealousy.

With Juliet, he took his time, and she sure as hell took hers. She knew exactly where and how to touch him to make him flinch, to enticed him, to make him beg for more. She knew exactly what he liked, what he loved, what he wanted and when he needed it.

And he knew exactly how to return the favour. They were equals, and for him, that was the biggest turn on ever.

When they finally reached their release, she collapsed on top of him, sweaty and short of breath.

Once her breathing had slowed down a little, she quickly untied his wrists and he pulled her down next to him and held her.

"Now, see," she said in triumph. "Wasn't that a much better way to spend the afternoon than trying to solve Hercule Poirot's investigation before he did?"

"Hmmm … Not sure, but it sure as hell beats scrabble though," he chuckled.

She slapped his arm playfully with the back of her hand and let out a sigh of total contentment.

He turned around and looked into her eyes with such intensity and candour and asked, "Fancy another game, we can trade places if you want?"

She raised her eyebrows slightly and giggled as he retrieved the rope and began wrapping it around her wrists.

~END~