Title: Shattered

Author: Crimson Coin

Rating: M for language and sexual situations

Pairing: Sawyer/Juliet

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or Lost. I make no profit on this story. My ideas are my own.

Summary: Post-Incident. Juliet detonated the bomb in order to save her friends, to save the man she loved. What if the detonation worked and sent everyone back to pivotal points in their lives? Sawyer and Juliet find themselves shattered, broken in the aftermath and without memories of the island. Will they find each other and remember the powerful love that once held them together, or will they wander lost to each other forever?

Note: I have received numerous requests to try my hand at a high rated story, and many reviews from Hydra of people wanting more heat. That is where this story comes in. It is rated M because there will be sex scenes, however, the scenes will not dominate the story. If I'm writing a sex scene, it's not just for smut sake. Just thought I'd give everyone a heads up. As always, I love reviews so send them my way.

In protest, Juliet dug her fingers into the flesh of his shoulders when the kiss finally broke and Sawyer eased back to grin at her. Her eyes still closed she felt him shift over her, his hand on her hip and then suddenly he was gone. She ignored the feeling of emptiness and the slight chill as he stretched out beside her on his back. Blinking slowly she sighed and turned her head slightly to watch him.

Already looking at her, he grinned when she turned. "Not too bad, if I do say so." He teased and at her smile, kissed her softly again. "I'll be back." He sat up and swung his legs off the bed. He walked away from her and into the bathroom.

Alone in the room and the euphoria fading, self consciousness pierced through the confidence he momentarily built. She sat up in the bed and looked frantically around the room. Standing, she hurried to her suitcase, plucking out the shorts and tank top, her normal sleeping attire. She pulled on the shorts first, settling them at her hips then tugged the shirt over her head.

"Aw, coverin' up on me already?" He drawled from the bathroom door and walked back to the bed. "Ya kickin' me out now that ya had yer way with me?"

She chuckled nervously. "No." She adjusted the tank top then turned back to him. She paused, eyes involuntarily raking his body. He lay out on the bed, fully nude and exposed to her, arms tucked behind his head to prop him up more on the pillow. A slow grin pulled at his lips as he watched her. She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to his. "You can stay if … you want to."

"I do."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he reached a hand out to her. "Come back to bed, Babe. I'm all about cuddlin' after sex. If it ain't too much trouble, I plan on feelin' ya up a bit." He smiled for her, a full blown smile with dimples and even the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes. "Come ahn, I think ya can give me a little pillow talk."

She matched his smile, any confusion masked in her expression as she returned to the bed. "Pillow talk, huh? I didn't know guys actually liked that."

"Depends on the guy. I like it. But sometimes, it depends on the girl I'm with. You fit the bill." He tugged her onto the bed and with a content hum, pulled her down so she lay against him. He maneuvered her expertly, easing her head onto his shoulder as that arm wrapped around her, holding her close to his side. His opposite hand reached to her and took her free hand, placing it on his chest. His fingers toyed with hers.

"What do you mean?"

"Well …" he husked and slid his fingers between hers, holding her hand. "There are some girls you just … well yer done and like ugh. Can't wait to roll away. Kinda wham, bam, thank you ma'am. And then there are other girls that you just don't wanna let go."

"And what am I?"

The hand on her back slid down to cup her hips and then dipped lower over her backside and thighs as he tugged her firmly into him. "Whadda you think?"

She bit her lip, smiling. "I see. Is it like an addiction? To have all these women?"

"Nah. It's a job, nothin' more. I got a real sick comparison for ya. Ask the prostitutes out there if they want to have sex or are addicted to it or enjoy it with everyone. I mean a few of 'em might be but for the most part, it's just a job. They may have clients they prefer or have a good time with, but in the end it's just a paycheck. Same with me. Just a paycheck."

She frowned in thought though not from disapproval, but searching interest. "Have you slept with many women you didn't want to?"

"You know … this ain't exactly the kind of pillow talk I meant. Talkin' about other girls."

She ducked her head, hiding her face from him. "I'm sorry. I'm just curious."

"Strange curiosities you got there, Blondie." He traced a random pattern on her exposed thigh, tone serious, pensive. "Yeah, I slept with girls I didn't want to. Cuz it was part of the job and I did what I had to do. Well I shouldn't say I didn't want to. I mean hell, what guy doesn't want sex, right? Most of them were pretty enough. And when they weren't, well then I just ..." he trailed off, remembering the night four days ago with the latest mark and how he envisioned someone else. Who the hell was he picturing anyway? "I just picture someone else."

"What did you picture with me?" she asked, nervous and insecure with herself though the uncertainty masked so not to expose her complete lack of self worth.

"Hmm," he looked up at the ceiling. "Blonde hair … blue eyes …" he grinned and pulled her closer.

She chuckled and shook her head, swatting his chest. "I'm serious."

"So am I," he hugged her, fingers dancing up and down her spine as he tilted his head down to look at her. "Baby, believe me. That whole time, I was with you. You're gorgeous, Juliet, and I ain't just sayin' that. I always had a thing for blue eyes."

"Blue eyes huh?" She looked up at him, eyes searching his. "Well I guess we're in luck I always had a thing for hazel."

His eyes brightened at that and he closed the distance between them to kiss her. "Guess we are. I'm also a bit of a leg man and ya got great legs." He sat up just enough to peer down their bodies, admiring her legs stretched long and smooth against his.

Her blush deepened, smile softening as her hand tightens in his. "You really mean that, don't you? I mean …" she trails off, licking her lips nervously. "You look at me like you mean it."

"I do mean it. And if ya give me about an hour, I can show ya again how much I mean it."

She lifted up and rested her chin on her hand on his chest, watching his expression. "How would you …" she trailed off and her brow lifted in surprise. "You'd want to go again? You can?"

"Is that a crack at my stamina? I can go all night long, Sweetheart. I just need time to recuperate. Think you can keep up with me?" A teasing smile on his face, he cupped her cheek, lifting her eyes back to his. Did she doubt his stamina? No. No, she doubted herself. "Hey … If I didn't want to, I wouldn't a said anything. Damn that asshole really did a number on ya."

Desperate for distance, she pushed away from him and sat up. Spinning on the bed, she faced him and brought her knees to her chest. Resting her chin on her knees, she hugged her legs, watching him through defensive eyes.

He lay still as she moved, giving her the space she needed. When she finally settled, he reached out to rest his hand on her calf. She needed the comfort and he just had to touch her. He couldn't stop. "I can still go kick the ever loving shit outta him."

Slowly shaking her head, she remained quiet in thought. She appreciated he did not push her because the thought of sharing her turbulent past crippled her. She shivered as his calloused fingers caressed her, tracing patterns with erotic and yet soothing patience. After a few moments of unexpected comfortable silence, she swallowed the lump in her throat. "I think I just find it hard to believe that you think I'm beautiful. I mean, there's nothing special about me."

"Yeah well there's nothin' special about me. And I think I'm hot shit. But there's somethin' special about you. I've seen my share of women. So I've seen all ranges of the spectrum. You're high end, Sweetheart. Trust me."

She smiled weakly, eyes still averted, staring at the wall. "When someone cheats on you, it does something to you. Because you can't help but think what didn't I have that they needed. And when it happens again and again and again …" she sighed, turned her head to look anywhere but at him.

She scoffed bitterly at herself. "He cheated on me when we dated but I believed him when he said it would never happen again. And married him anyway. You know, there's that adage about Fool me once, shame on you; Fool me twice, shame on me. Well it was fool me again and again and again and I just let him. I let him do it. Like I wanted to be blissfully ignorant."

He tilted his head, examining her profile and waited for her words. So raw, vulnerable and sad. This woman was everything he used to seek in a mark. And at the moment, all he wanted to do was gather her in his arms and show her she was more than the trash her ex-husband made her believe. He never saw his romps with women as making love. Because it was just sex for the act. With Juliet? He could see himself making love to her. "And what load a bullshit did he feed you to make you think any a this was your fault?"

She scratched her brow and dared to meet his eyes again. "He said I was boring. Dowdy. Too busy with my head in a book and why couldn't I be more like this person or that. You know for our third wedding anniversary he bought me a consultation with a plastic surgeon. For breast implants. Happy Anniversary, Honey. Here go get some silicon shoved in your boobs so I find you more attractive."

Sawyer's eyes darkened. "You don't need anything done. You hear me? Anyway, who the hell wants to squeeze a fuckin' balloon? You've got an amazin' rack, Darlin'. Your ex husband is an absolute piece of shit. Anything he said to you to make you think that there is somethin' wrong with you is a god damn lie."

"You didn't know me in med school. I was a mess, a total nerd and book worm."

"Book worms are sexy. I'm hot for teacher." He mock sang the famous chorus. "Whadda ya say, Blondie? You be the sexy science teacher who gave me detention. Or we gotta study for the anatomy test. " He winked playfully.

She smiled at his words, comforted in his confident and teasing praise. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to air all this laundry. I'm sure it's not the pillow talk you wanted. As you can imagine, this whole thing is foreign to me. He wasn't exactly the most … generous lover."

"Well, you're in luck. Cuz I am." He reached out to tuck the hair behind her ear, fingers gentle and tender in touch. "In the morning, you're gonna forget everything that bastard said to you."

Releasing her legs, she crawled towards him, closing the distance to kiss him softly, slowly and then deeply. When he moaned at the kiss, she eased back. "You know, I just got the strangest craving."

"Mmm," he smiled against her lips. "Something involving some part of my body?"

She grinned against his lips. "Only if a part of your body tastes like a mango."

"Mangos?" Amused, he laughed, deep and full. "Well no, can't say that I taste like mangos, but if we get some up here, I'm sure we can think of something. You know, if yer hungry I can go get us something to eat."

"Do you want to leave?"

"No," he answered simply. "But room service usually charge ya yer first born."

She grinned broadly. "Then you're in luck. I'm a baby doctor. And my fee, is the first born."

He stretched out on the bed again on his back with arms tucked behind his head. "Alright, woman. Pull some newborns outta that purse, grab a menu and let's get us somethin' to eat. What time is it anyway?"

Juliet reached over to the bed stand, turning her alarm clock so he could see. "Only just after ten."

Sawyer closed his eyes in comfort. "Mmm, still early enough to eat."

"Early? Wouldn't you think ten is late?"

"In Vegas? Nah. Night's just startin', Babe. You were the one that mentioned grub. So less talky, more fetchy."

She picked up the room service menu from the bed stand and plopped it on his chest with a calm yet oddly challenging glance. "Well, what do you want?"

He opened a single eye to stare at her then picked up the menu to read it. Squinting slightly, he adjusted the distance between the menu and his eyes as he tried to read.

"Forget your glasses?"

He glared. "I don't need glasses!"

Amused, her brow lifted as she watched him. "Really? Is that why you keep moving the menu as you read it?"

"No!"

"Mmm," she nodded, disbelief obvious in her eyes. "Then tell me what you want? What kind of entrées do they have?"

He stared at the menu, attempting to focus yet he refused to move the menu any more. Finally, he grumbled something and handed the menu back to her. "I don't know what I want. You pick something, I'll pick off of your plate."

She laughed, lyrical almost melodic. Teasing, she squirmed closer to him and lay over his stomach, her arm propping up her head. She set the menu on his chest as she read. "Let's see. Do you want a meal? Or dessert?"

His mood lightened since her ribbing seemed done and he smiled for her. "Whatever you want. Does this count as a second date?"

"I don't know. Does it?" She peered up at him a moment before returning her eyes to the menu. "No, seriously, James, how hungry are you?"

"I could eat," he stated honestly. "But only if ya got mouthwash I can bum."

She motioned with a thumb towards the bathroom. "Some came with the room."

"Good. Don't want ya tastin' the meal when I kiss ya."

An endearing and teasing expression crossed her face. "Oh and I'm sure tasting like beer is that much better." She rubbed his stomach and sat up then reached for the phone.

He laughed and shook his head. "You taste like wine, sweetheart. That's what these drunken one night stands are supposed to taste like. Booze and shame … only this time, I don't taste the shame."

She blushed at his words as she stood at the bedside, phone to her ear. "So poetic," she stated and shook her head, unable to keep the smile from her face. "You just have a way with women." Turning her back on him, she ordered a tomato basil pizza, a grilled chicken sandwich and a mango sorbet.

When she hung up the phone he stretched onto his side with a sassy grin. "Want me to run across the street for more wine? They want thirty bucks here for a bottle that's only worth about twelve."

"I'm alright, but if you want to go, that's fine." She said cryptically and set the menu back on the stand.

"Nah, don't really wanna get dressed. Was just throwin' it out there."

She smiled in relief, though with her back turned, he couldn't see. She walked to the table near the window and closed her suitcase, zipping it and set it on the floor, clearing a place for them to eat. "So you're going to answer the door naked."

"Yep."

She laughed and shook her head, returning to the bed to pick up his boxers on the floor. She turned them right side out then tossed them onto his chest. "Humor me."

With a grin, he sat up to shove his feet through the leg holes of the boxers. He lay back, lifting his hips to tug them up, adjusted himself then settled. "There. Better? Can I answer the door now?"

"You can."

"Can I walk outside to see if douche bag is still out there? You know flaunt my stuff instead of kicking his ass."

"If you really want to but I would prefer you didn't."

"Why?"

She sighed and sat on the bed again. "Because I work for him. He's my boss. So flaunting should be kept to a minimum."

Sawyer nodded slowly in understanding. "So I can't take ya against the wall outside his room either. That would be in poor taste."

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Yes, poor taste. Plus I'm too self conscious to consider public sex. I'm the wrong girl if that turns you on."

"You turn me on just fine. I don't wanna share tonight."

When the meal arrived, they sat at the table, sharing the pizza and the sandwich. They drank sparkling water and spoke about mundane things like books, television, movies, weather and sports. It shocked him she knew anything about sports; apparently she loved the Miami Dolphins. It shocked her he loved books; he even read Of Mice and Men. She knew doctors that couldn't get through that book. One hour passed and then two as Juliet lost herself in the conversation. Even during silence, she felt comforted before he launched into another line of discussion about a book or a movie or something he saw on one of the many educational channels he enjoyed watching.

Sawyer worried how easily he could lose himself in Juliet. Because come the morning when she was gone, then what would he have? Who would he be? He certainly felt the change within him that night. He wished he was a better man. To be a man that deserved her. He wanted her and couldn't explain the primal and instinctual need to hold her and never let go. It frightened him. Never before had he been tempted or haunted by the thoughts of permanence with any woman yet sitting with this blonde bombshell, he thought of nothing else. A woman he had yet to know for a few hours, and he wanted everything from her.

Insanity.

Absolute insanity. He hardly believed in love much less love at first sight. And yet here he sat with a woman he just met and he felt emotions and sensations he never knew before. Mysteriously, the longer the emotions lingered, the more familiar they felt. He must be losing his mind.

Once finished and during a lull in conversation, Juliet called down to the concierge to have the tray and plates removed. Surprisingly, room service responded quickly and within ten minutes, all signs of the meal left the room. Sawyer stepped out of the bathroom, stretching his arms over his head. He grinned at her. "All good. Ya won't taste basil on this tongue tonight."

She smirked. "For your information, I love basil."

"Well, shit."

With a cheeky grin, she slipped past him and into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. He walked to the bed, stretching out in comfort when he heard the water run in the sink. Reaching over to the bed stand, he picked up the remote and clicked on the television, flipping through the stations. Fancy Schmancy. Place even had all the premium channels, including Playboy.

Juliet spit the toothpaste from her mouth then rinsed her toothbrush. Cupping her hands under the water, she brought the water to her mouth, sucking it through pursed lips and swished around her mouth to rinse. Spitting out the water, she flushed the drain then turned off the tap. Resolutely, she raised her eyes to the mirror, gazing at the stranger staring back at her.

A week ago, something had changed within her. She felt strength, courage, stubbornness slowly followed by paranoia, mistrust and finally regret. All emotions with no reason. She felt a different person, as if this new stronger and confident woman merged with the mousy, complacent and naïve individual she was. A new Juliet combined with old Juliet. She liked new Juliet. New Juliet defended herself, defended her ideas. New Juliet stood up to Edmund, had a mind of her own, picked up hot men in bars for sex.

She smiled softly. Well picking up hot men was certainly new. She certainly had never done something so bold before. She never thought a man would give her a second glance, much less want to have sex with her. Not only was James a stranger in a bar, but a self confessed criminal, con man and womanizer. Despite all that knowledge, her heart raced in his presence. She rationalized the emotions. James was the first man to treat her like a woman, not like a prize or a brain or a possession. A woman.

She craved that. She craved the connection he offered and her heart clung to every word he spoke even though her brain tried to dismiss his words as lies and cons. Maybe she was as foolish as all the other women he conned but when she looked in his eyes, she felt she could see right to his core. Things he tried to hide, emotions he kept well concealed were visible to her eyes. Despite his confident and sometimes arrogant bravado, he was a vulnerable soul, almost childlike begging for love, acceptance, comfort and companionship.

That was why she trusted him. He needed the exact same things she needed. They both needed each other, even if just for the night. In his arms, she felt beautiful. She was beautiful. When the sun rose, how would she ever let him go?