Not Your World
by HilaryHilary
Author's note: This is my first Lost story in a while, so I hope you all like it. I've written the first ten chapters already, so I'll be posting fairly frequently. At least for a while. This is severely AU, so please keep that in mind as you read! Thanks!
Chapter One: The Beginning
The girl sitting at the bar was his ultimate destination, but he didn't know to go about getting there.
His previous relationships had taught him to be cautious, but he was heartened by the idea that this girl was nothing like any of the others he'd dated before. Her hair, past her shoulders, was left down and left in unruly curls. He could only see part of her face and could therefore not discern whether or not she was truly beautiful, but he had heard her laugh. She was wearing dark blue jeans, a tight black top and high heels. She was focused intermittently on the basketball game playing on the TV screen and the bartender, a blonde man whom she seemed to be familiar with.
This strengthened his resolve. Abandoning his beer on the table he'd been sitting at, he walked over to join her at the bar.
She didn't acknowledge his presence once she sat down. He cleared his throat loudly and announced his presence.
"Hey. I'm Jack Shephard."
The dark haired girl slowly turned to look at him, and he was gratified to see that it had been most definitely been worth the trip. She had green eyes, an infectious smile, and freckles sprinkled across her nose.
"Hey," she said, slightly cautiously. He noticed that she was wearing light makeup.
He'd been hoping she'd offer her name, or perhaps a conversation starter.
"You from around here?" he asked lamely, cringing inwardly. She smiled, recognizing his discomfort.
"More or less."
Damn. She really wasn't giving him anything to work with.
"Me too," he said, even though she hadn't asked.
The girl waited for him to continue.
"Do you want to buy me a drink, Jack?" she said eventually. He nodded gratefully and signaled to the bartender, who'd been noting the exchange in interest.
"Can I get a beer? And a..." he trailed off, motioning to the girl.
"Vodka and coke. Thanks," she said to Jack.
"Sure thing," said the bartender in a Southern accent, bending down to rummage in the bar.
"Friend of yours?" asked Jack carefully, hoping he was being stealth. She shrugged vaguely. Jack relaxed slightly, enjoying the challenge.
"What do you do, Jack?" she asked.
"Do?" A moment later, Jack cursed himself. It wasn't as if he'd never flirted with a pretty girl at a bar. "I mean, I'm a Doctor. Surgeon."
He'd been hoping, absurdly, that this would impress her, but she remained as impassive as ever.
"I didn't know you guys had the time to hang around in bars," she commented. He smiled as a response immediately came to him.
"We don't. That's why I'm trying to spend it wisely," he said. It was true. He'd been on shift for hours, he really should have gone home to sleep.
Smiling appreciatively at his flirtatious comment, she took in his own appearance: dark, short hair, the beginnings of a scruffy beard. Handsome, an air of prosperity, slightly older than her.
"How's your drink?" he asked, glancing at the Southern bartender, now absorbed in the game.
"Good." He paused. Wanting to ask more questions about her life but suspecting she wouldn't answer, he refrained.
He looked up to meet her sparkling green eyes and found himself smiling.
"You have nice eyes," he said. She grinned.
"Thanks. You have nice eyes, too."
Jack, who generally felt his eyes to be brown and unextraordinary, was suddenly proud of them.
"That why you came over to talk to me? My eyes?" she asked. He shook his head, laughing in embarrassment.
"No. Your laugh. You have a nice laugh, too," he revealed.
"Maybe you need to laugh more often," she suggested. He was surprised. Since meeting her, he felt that he'd laughed plenty.
"Maybe."
She offered him one more smile before standing up, waving briefly to the bartender. He stood as well.
"Sorry, Jack Shephard, I've got to run. It was nice meeting you," she said.
"You too," he said regretfully, feeling sure that she was blowing him off. She slid out of her bar stool, her body all but brushing up against his.
He watched her as she walked toward the door.
"Can I have your number? And maybe your name?"
Under normal circumstances Jack would have been embarrassed at calling such a thing across a reasonably crowded bar, but he found himself not caring.
She turned around, laughing again. She shook her head.
"Not just yet."
She exited out of it backwards, and he watched her until she disappeared into the crowd on the street.
She smiled to herself as she rode home, part of her wishing she had given her number to the handsome stranger. It wasn't as if she could ever have a real relationship with him, but at least she could have someone else to talk to.
She opened the door of her apartment, stepped inside and turned on the lights.
"Jesus!"
She was momentarily stunned by the figure sitting on the chair in her foyer, but recovered when she realized who it was.
"What are you doing here?" she said tiredly. The older, white haired man smiled as he stood.
"Just came to check on you. And to tell you what a good job you did this evening," he said. She frowned.
"It wasn't a job. We were just talking. I'm not going to talk to him again," she said.
The man laughed.
"Oh, I think you'll find you will.
The girl stared at him stubbornly, wishing he'd reveal his plans to her and also hoping that he would not.