Stockholm Syndrome

"Before we begin, does anyone have any comments on the book as a whole?"

When Juliet's hand shot up, Bea nodded at the blond woman. "I thought the premise was pretty flimsy," said Juliet.

Curious, Bea cocked her head to one side and said, "Explain what you mean."

"It just didn't make sense. If someone is being held against their will, how could they ever 'love' the person behind it? There doesn't seem to be a lot of real evidence backing up the ideas here."

"Well, sometimes you have to suspend disbelief in order to enjoy a story."

Still, Juliet looked doubtful. "I guess I just don't share this…this romanticized idea of bondage that Harvard's trying to convey here."

The others glanced at one another, and no one spoke for a long, awkward moment. Finally Collette said, "I thought Harvard handled the characters really well. It's not easy to portray such a touchy subject, for sure."

Everyone but Juliet nodded, and Bea added, "I especially enjoyed the dialogue between Grace and her captors—always, or at least most of the time, more believable than I—Juliet, I take it you don't agree?"

Embarrassed that Bea noticed that she rolled her eyes, Juliet's face reddened and she grinned sheepishly. "I apologize, Bea; after all, you guys did put up with Carrie for me."

Half-listening through the rest of the discussion, Juliet fingered the edges of the pages to stave off boredom, and couldn't wait to get home by the time Bea dismissed them and a few goodbyes were exchanged. "By the way," Bea told Juliet as she was walking out the door, "I think Ben called a little while ago."

Juliet sighed. "Of course he did. Well, hopefully it wasn't urgent." And it most likely wasn't—though, knowing Ben, he probably thought it was.

On the road home, her mind kept wandering to that book. Why would someone sympathize with their captor? That hardly made sense, yet at the same time, the others agreed that it somehow did. But how would they know? Inexplicably, these questions bothered her like an itch she couldn't relieve, a visitor who had overstayed their welcome.

After unlocking the door to the house she and Ben shared, she walked inside and heard him talking on the phone, saying, "Yes, that's exactly what I want you to do." When she closed the door behind her, the lock clicked, and he realized that she'd entered the house. "Sorry to cut you off, but I have to go." He placed the phone back on the cradle, quickly hanging up in order to greet Juliet.

However, in contrast to his casual and pleasant voice on the telephone, now he sounded upset. "Where were you?" he demanded, eyes roaming her face in concern.

Puzzled, she dropped her book on the table and shrugged. "Book club, like every Wednesday."

"I called there earlier. Needless to say I got voicemail."

"Bea said she won't answer anymore during book club, remember?"

Immediately he sighed and nodded, and the corner of her mouth turned up in a half-smile. "Possessive" hardly even began to describe Benjamin Linus, but sometimes, she just couldn't help but be just a little bit pleased by how he worried over her. Often, there were shadows in his eyes that she never wanted to understand, and she felt grateful to see his face light up at her return, at least when the book club or an urgent call to the medical facilities didn't delay her.

He approached the table and peered at the book, nudging his glasses up the bridge of his nose to make out the title. "Stockholm Syndrome."

"Collette's idea. We just finished it," she explained, walking over to him.

Glancing up at her, he asked, "And what did you think of it?" His tone could only be described as indulgent, as if she were a child telling him about a program she saw on television.

"That it was crazy. But now, I can't decide. What do you think?"

Now Ben's eyes roamed her face. "People are so complicated, I guess anything is possible, right?"

"I didn't think of it that way, though I suppose you're right." Seeing Ben so amused, still wearing that odd smile with his eyebrows arched like that, made her think that did make a little sense and she just didn't see it before. "For some people it could make perfect sense."

He laughed, a short abrupt laugh. "You think so, Juliet."

Unable to tell if he asked a question or stated a fact, she only shrugged.

"Stockholm syndrome," he said, chuckling now, and slid the book between Roots and Carrie. "Honestly, Juliet."

Somewhat puzzled, she laughed with him anyway, wondering what the joke was. Conversations with Ben did tend to confuse her. But though she didn't understand the reasons for it, the talk had clearly improved his mood, and she could at least be content with that.

AN: Yeah, this one's pretty short, and a little aimless. But I decided to upload it for what it's worth XD I've never written Juliet before, and it's always good to practice writing Ben.