Veering a little from our 1981 sojourn. The rest of those 1981 chapters were written out of order, and I'm trying to decide whether to publish them out of order (i.e., if it's written, just go ahead and put it up). The next few bits from 1981 are half-written at best, so I may skip ahead and revisit those chapters later, or I may just finish those and publish them in order. I haven't decided how much work to put in. Anyway, we'll take a break from 1981.

This is Miles finding out about Jimmy and Kate dating. It got the second-most votes (after the 1981 chapters). I just didn't find a place to fit this in. Once I realized it wasn't going to fit, I left it be. If it had actually been part of the story, I may have toned down Miles' reaction just a little bit. It's kind of too much, here. Wouldn't have toned it down A LOT, of course . . . it IS Miles, but a little . . .


Miles digs into his plate of pecan pancakes. "Mmmmm," he murmurs through a mouthful of food.

Juliet glances at James. Tell him now? While his mouth's full? James grits his teeth, turns his attention to the serving bowl in his hands, and then spoons fresh fruit onto Miles' plate. Miles nods thanks. James looks at Juliet. No, you go first. You start. Miles, never blind, doesn't miss the shared looks.

"Brunch at the LaFleurs. Wow. Such an honor. So, what's the occasion, hmmm?"

Probably should just tell him now, but instead, James gets his hackles up. "Can't a coupl'a old folks have their best friend over for brunch sometime?"

"Well, they can, but they never do, so . . ."

Juliet inhales. She looks over to James. Gonna have to say it eventually. He closes his eyes and nods very slightly in agreement. She smiles at him.

Before they get a chance to say anything, Miles groans. "Oh. Stop right there. Stop right fucking there, I've seen this show before. You're pregnant, aren't you?"

Exasperated, Juliet says, "Oh, hell, Miles, give it a rest, would you? I'm sixty-six years old."

Miles forks up another huge bit of pancake. He chews a few times then notes, "Yeah, well, see, there's this gal I used to know – some kind of research scientist. Anyway, that was her specialty – getting chicks pregnant who otherwise wouldn't be able to, you know? Just thought maybe if you crossed paths with her, I dunno, you might decide to give it a go."

She's quite sure he's tweaking them – over their age, her past, their sex life, all of the above, you can never tell for sure with Miles. She won't take the bait, instead sitting still with her arms crossed. James, predictably, does rise to the bait. "Miles, lookit us. What the hell would we do with a baby?"

"Yeah, OK. Good point. But grandbaby, right? When's Rachel due?"

Juliet, alarmed, asks, "How do you know about that? Did she tell you already?" Did Rachel tell Miles before her mom and dad? It was kind of sweet to think she told Jimmy first, but Miles? MILES? That kind of – really – hurts Juliet's feelings.

"Nope. No she didn't, but judging by your reaction, I see that I guessed right," Miles crows, pointing his fork at her.

James feels the need to comment, "Nice work blabbin' the news, Cronkite."

She doesn't get a chance to defend herself before Miles is off to the races with grandparent and old-age jokes. She casts a blank stare James' way. Now what? A few more old people jokes, and Miles starts in on how they think they are so clever, always think they can hide things from him, but he always figures it out.

James feels it's high time to burst this revisionist history bubble with, "They know the truth. We told 'em. Last night."

Miles swallows the chunk of cantaloupe he just popped in his mouth. He sets down his fork. He asks, uneasily and slowly, all self confidence drained away, "Told who? What. . . what truth?"

"Jimmy and Rachel," James answers. "Told 'em who we are, where we came from. Told 'em everything."

"Well, not everything," Juliet clarifies. Nothing about the people she (they) shot.

Miles looks back and forth between his two oldest and dearest friends, trying to determine whether they're pulling his leg. Finally he attempts, "Why? Why would you do that? I thought you were never gonna . .. " And instead of asking that line of questions, he moves on to the one that's probably even more imporant: "How'd they take it?"

Juliet shrugs. "Really well, I think." She looks over to James, who nods agreement. "Surprisingly well. . . I . . . I guess they'll have more questions, but . . . I think . . . I think it's going to be OK."

Miles says, "Still didn't tell me why you felt the need to just blab it all out of the blue."

Juliet leans back in her chair. She cuts her eyes to James, who's busy cutting a bite-size piece of honeydew into even smaller pieces. She answers (here goes), "Because Jimmy's been dating Kate."

Miles looks startled. "Kate?" he says, incredulous. "Kate? Kate AUSTEN? That Kate?" He points at James. "The same Kate you banged up against the bars of that cage?"

"Miles," James grumbles in low warning.

Miles plows on ahead, looking now to Juliet. "Oh yeah, he told me all about that. It sounds kind of nasty, doesn't it? But he said it was fantastic." James slams his fork to his plate (but isn't this kind of what they expected upon telling this news to Miles? Something along these lines). Miles explains, "Told me all this in our first few months in Dharmaville. He was so moony over her back then. Didja know that?"

"Yes, Miles, I did."

"Anyway, sounded pretty hot. Case you're wondering, he never gave much details about what you and him did between the sheets. Or on top of vehicles."

Juliet drops her head to her hand. Don't let him get the best of you, she knew this was coming. This was why we tried to think up a convincing lie: "We told them because Jimmy found Juliet Burke's picture on the Internet." Then, though, Jimmy would have to lie, and, well . . . that wouldn't work. Jimmy . . . he's not a good liar.

Miles: "So, guess we'll have to ask Ms. Austen, who's a better lay, you or Jimmy?"

"Well, Miles," Juliet, red faced and embarrassed as she currently is, manages to sit up straight in an attempt to convey decorum and authority. "There you are wrong, because I don't think Jimmy and Kate . . . I don't think they . . . well, you know, they didn't . . ."

UGH UGH UGH UGH. She cannot get the words, or even more horrifying, the image, out of her head. It's bad enough she has to imagine cage sex, now this too? Damn you Kate Austen, damn you.