A/N: Multi-chapter story taking place in the Sideways. Love Juliet in any 'verse. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed my previous stories; I greatly appreciate feedback.

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There are some days Juliet wakes up and wonders, Why am I even doing this? Sometimes at night she dreams of fixing bright blue vans, wearing a dark jumpsuit, and when she wakes up she muses that she must have been a mechanic in another life.

But not in this one, no, she has gone for the doctor route, making her family immensely proud and entertaining dreams of helping pregnant women.

Today she's late for rounds of course - bad days for an intern always involve tardiness (and tardiness always leads to missing that direly needed cup of coffee from the good cart on the second floor of the hospital) – and is pulling her lab coat on as she practically sprints down the hallway, trying to catch up with her resident before too much damage is done. There is still a possibility of salvaging the horrible morning she's having, and that begins with making it to rounds before they're over.

Juliet is totally involved in whipping out her small notepad and pen from her breast pocket when she collides with someone else. The notepad goes flying, and Juliet almost does as well if not for the strong hands that had automatically reached out to steady her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she apologizes profusely, gathering her dropped belongings. "I wasn't looking where I was going, it's just, I'm late for rounds, and my car wouldn't start, and my alarm didn't go off, and my neighbor seems to have gone on a very good date last night-"

She realizes she is rambling about her woes to a complete stranger whom she has not even made eye contact with yet, and stops mid-sentence. Finally pulling herself together, Juliet looks at the face of her collision-buddy, praying he is not the chief of anything.

He is in blue scrubs, holding a chart, the usual appearance for a doctor, but it is his face that strikes Juliet. She is staring at him, at his short brown hair and deep brown eyes, his bemused expression with a hint of a smile stretching his stubbled face, and then she remembers herself and looks away.

"Sounds like you're having a rough morning," he says kindly.

"One of those days," she responds, shrugging. There is something about this man she cannot place, a feeling he gives her, like she has known him before. She notices that he is still watching her intently as well, and wonders if he is experiencing the same thing.

"I'm sorry," he begins again, shaking his head a little, "but have we met?"

"I don't think so," Juliet replies, holding out her hand. "I'm an intern. Juliet Carlson."

He takes her proffered hand, gives it one lingering shake. "Jack Shephard. Neurosurgeon." He continues to look at her curiously.

"I'm, uh, late for rounds," she repeats, taking her hand back, smoothing down her wavy blonde hair, suddenly self-conscious. She's heard of Dr. Shephard and how talented he is, but hadn't realized he was so good-looking, or that there was just something about him she could not help but be drawn to, even after sharing only a few sentences.

"Who's your resident?" he asks.

"Dr. Roth."

"He can be pretty tough on interns," Jack says knowledgably. "Especially when they're late. Tell him I held you up with a patient, he probably won't bother you about it, and then you can just get to work."

Juliet blinks. "Are you sure? You don't even know me. I could be lying about everything… maybe I stole this lab coat and I don't even work here."

Jack chuckles. "Juliet the Intern. I know you now, and I trust you."

"Well… thanks," she replies slowly, unexplainably wishing she could prolong this moment, that Dr. Roth and her fellow interns weren't probably down the hall bashing her for being late (why can she see this stranger telling her he trusts her on a beach, by a jungle?). "I owe you one."

It is time to break eye contact, because at this point, even using Jack's excuse, Juliet will still get reprimanded for being so late. She gives him a brief smile and then moves past him down the hall, feeling colder as she goes.

"Juliet," he calls. She stops and turns; he looks bashful, boyish. "Would, uh… would you want to get dinner sometime?"

It is out of the blue; they have had one conversation in the middle of a hospital corridor, and all they really know about each other is names and statuses. It is probably inappropriate to accept, makes no sense he is even asking in the first place because right now she is just a promising intern and he is a young surgical god.

"Sure," she says, unable to stop beaming. After a moment of the two of them just smiling at each other she starts, flipping open her notepad and quickly jotting down her number. He steps forward, accepting the offered paper. "I should warn you, I work horrible hours without any flexibility," she jokes.

Jack laughs. "Don't worry, so do I." He looks at her number, then back at her. "I'll call you."

"I look forward to it," Juliet says happily. She remembers rounds and feels a wave of panic. "Thanks for the offer to use you as an excuse, I'm going to need anything I can get."

"I'll talk to you soon," Jack promises, and for some reason she trusts him fully, too. "Good luck!" he shouts after her.

Dr. Roth is beyond pissed and barely listens to her explanation that Dr. Jack Shephard had needed a favor before jumping into the berating. Her peers watch this 'teaching moment'; all obviously glad it is not they on the receiving end.

Juliet is hardly listening. Her mind is back in the hallway with Jack, focused on the connection she felt to him. She wonders why she could have sworn for a split second she remembered kissing him in the bright sunlight, a gun slung around her shoulder.

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