Title: Hydra

Author: Crimson Coin

Rating: T … not quite R but it's romance so things may get a little steamy

Pairing: Juliet/Sawyer

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost or these characters. I just like to borrow them to have a little fun.

Summary: Dharma time story about how Juliet and Sawyer became a couple.

Note: This story is based on a suggestion from tntlostfan for a one shot. It's going to be multiple chapters because, well the ideas just started coming! So I hope I'm forgiven, tntlostfan. But I promise, you'll have your idea in the story.

The days passed without incident; evenings continued in calm and peaceful comfort. The nights, however, were different. Juliet always retired first, heading up the stairs to brush her teeth then slip into the bed and under the sheets. She curled up on her side, staying on one side of the bed, facing the window. Sawyer waited at least one hour before slipping into the room, steps quiet on the wooden floor. He slept in his boxers and a long t-shirt and always eased gently under the covers. He turned his back to her, sighed softly and succumbed to sleep.

Juliet rarely slept before he entered the room, unable to quell any of the nerves churning in her stomach. His routine engrained in her mind, she waited every night for him to settle and still before finally falling asleep.

Each morning, they awoke with limbs entangled or spooned firmly together. His strong arm draped casually over her waist as he molded to her. Or one morning, she pressed right to him, holding him, her chest to his back. One would always awaken first and slowly disentangle themselves and leave the room before waking the other. They never spoke of the nights, never acted odd or out of place, as if the nights existed separate of everything else in their lives.

That morning, Juliet woke first. Her eyes fluttered open and brow furrowed at the sheet of grey fabric before her eyes. She squirmed slightly and his arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. Her eyes focused on the fabric then up to a tanned neck and a scruffy jaw then Sawyer's sleeping expression. Gently, she smiled and slid a hand up his side to press at his chest, coaxing him to move. She lingered a moment, enjoying the warmth of his body and the feel of him near. To be held again in the night was a luxury she long forgot. Edmund used to initially but as he drifted further away, they did not sleep together. Goodwin was a married man and he never could spend a full night, never hold her or share such an intimate moment even though he claimed his marriage was falling apart. She never slept with Jack.

Juliet reached up to stroke a gentle finger along the line of Sawyer's jaw, watching as the muscles ticked and trembled in response to her touch. She blushed at the morning sensations of his body, typical and understandable sensations from a man living celibate for the last six months. She caved into the temptation eating at her heart and leaned forward to press her lips softly to his chin, lingering a moment before her hand on his chest pushed again to ease him onto his back.

Sawyer hummed and licked his lips, rolling onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes. Lips parted, he stilled and mumbled, continuing to sleep.

Juliet released a shaky breath and smiled, wondering curiously of the dream racing through his mind. She sat up slowly not to awaken him and watched his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids.

"Kate …" Sawyer muttered, his expression tense, brow creased and lips slightly downturned.

Juliet blanched and reached up to touch her lips with her fingers. She closed her eyes, the walls around her heart thickening and she stood quietly from the bed. She tiptoed across the room and out the bedroom door, slowly bringing the door closed behind her.

The bed to himself, Sawyer rolled onto his side towards the middle of the bed, resting his head on Juliet's pillow. He relaxed, sinking deeply into the mattress and inhaled deeply. His one arm flung out and outstretched as if over the woman who was once there. His palm splayed on the warm bed sheet. "Mmmm … Juliet …" he moaned, his expression now calm and content in sleep, no longer strained.

Sawyer and Miles walked along the fence line at the northern most point of the Dharma territory. Miles grumbled, stomping through the brush with a huff to his step. "I don't see why we always have to go to the Northern Fence. Why can't we take the Eastern Fence? That's like a Sunday stroll."

"Because, Half pint," Sawyer chided with a smirk. "We're the new guys and the northern fence is the longest and hilliest terrain."

"Every week is bullshit!" Miles snapped and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"I know," Sawyer smirked. "But can you really see Radzinsky scalin' that cliff face in grid fourteen?"

Miles laughed. "Probably not. His gut would get in the way."

"That or his fat head."

The radio on Miles' hip crackled to life, the voice Radzinsky's and distorted with static. "Straume? Come in."

Miles grinned. "Man of the hour." He took the radio off his belt and brought it to his mouth. "I'm here, Radzinsky."

"Status …" the garbled static request.

Miles rolled his eyes. "All clear. We're halfway through our route. Should be back in about three hours."

"Alright. Status call in one hour. Out."

Sawyer stood at the bottom of the cliff face with an unimpressed expression as he looked up at the fifty foot climb. "Status call. I'll status call my foot up his ass."

Miles grinned. "And ruin your boots?"

Sawyer laughed and put his hands on his hips then looked at Miles. "Ready for a climb, Kimchi?"

Miles glared and walked past Sawyer to the cliff face. "I don't even like Kimchi."

Sawyer laughed and helped boost Miles up the side then secured his gun to his back before carefully following him up the face. Sawyer grunted, pulling his body up the side of the cliff. Hands scratched and scraped, he reached to his right, grabbing a secure and thick tree root then hoisted himself up further.

"So …" Miles panted. "Bangin' Juliet yet?"

"Shut up," Sawyer snarled and then grunted, inching higher.

Miles laughed. "Guess that's a no."

"No, it's a mind yer own damn business."

"Juliet is my damn business when you're hot and cold with her. Are you blind to what you've been doing to her?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh I don't know. Maybe the fact she's just totally and absolutely in love with you."

Sawyer laughed. "No way, man. You don't know the Juliet I know."

"Actually … I think yer blind to the real Juliet."

Sawyer shook his head and continued up the tree root just behind Miles. "I'm never blind when it comes to women. And who the hell are you to offer advice."

"Hey! I know what I'm …" The cliff crumbled beneath Miles and he slipped, skidding down the face and then the root directly above Sawyer.

"Miles!" Sawyer braced himself and ducked his head. Miles collided with him and Sawyer grunted at the impact, sliding down the root with Miles momentum. He wrapped his legs around the root, grounding himself and his body snapped at the sudden braking. Miles continued sliding over Sawyer's back, the tearing of fabric not stopping his fall. He finally managed to grip the very end of the tree root about three feet beneath Sawyer. Miles' feet dangled in empty air twenty feet from the ground.

Sawyer clung to the root and frowned, looking up the face at the tree that hung precariously at the edge. He cursed to himself then looked back over his shoulder. "Miles! Hang on!"

"Where my goin' LaFleur!" Miles snapped back but the fear and uncertainty wavered in his voice.

Sawyer tightened his legs, the muscles clenching at the thick root. He tucked his right leg behind the left, anchoring himself then released a heavy breath, calming any nerves before he flipped backwards, hanging upside down from his legs. He reached down for Miles. "Take my hand."

"You're out of your mind!" Miles shot back. He kicked out with his feet, trying to gain some traction on the cliff face with little success.

"Miles, I swear to God, I'm gonna hurl. Take my god damn hand."

Miles glanced up and swallowed hard then winced, hands inching up the little root length. "You hurl on me I swear … I'm pukin' in your boots tomorrow."

Sawyer grinned at that, knowing his friend trying to joke through the fear. He stretched and managed to wrap his fingers around Miles' wrist. "Climb up me. I got ya." Sawyer contracted the muscles of his arms, yelling out at the release of adrenaline to pull Miles up.

Focused and unrelenting, Miles reached up and crawled over the length of Sawyer's body. His bleeding scratched hands left bloody and dusty marks all along Sawyer's tan jumper. Sawyer pressed his hands at Miles feet and extended his arms, shoving the man up the root and out of the way. He quelled the churning in his stomach and ducked his chin into his chest, no longer able to look down. He panted, sweat dripping from his hair and with a loud grunt, he sat up, the muscles in his abdomen trembling to return him to an upright position.

His legs nearly gave way, exhausted from the pressure and the contraction. Sawyer ignored it and climbed, knowing the moment he stop or froze the muscles would give out. At this height, he would fall and die.

Finally, both men reached the top, rolling into the grass. Miles lay on his back, Sawyer on his stomach. The front of Miles' jumper torn and tattered from the fall, displaying the ripped flesh of his arms, thighs and chest. The back of Sawyer's jumper ripped from collar down to his waist, the seams split from the force of Miles sliding down, a grey t-shirt and the waistband of his boxers exposed. Sawyer panted, eyes closed, arms outstretched in the soft grass. Shreds and tatters of flesh hung from his palms caused by the momentum of sliding down the root. As bad as Sawyer felt, he knew Miles was likely worse having slid further.

Sawyer licked his lips, unable to move his legs; his body trembled as the adrenaline left him.

"I … I can't move." Miles panted. "I feel … like jell-o."

"Me too," Sawyer admitted in a whisper. "Think the cameras know we're here?"

"Yeah … remember … they look at the cliff side. Just to make sure nothing happens."

"Good," Sawyer hummed. "I think … I'll just lay here a little while."

"Ah … shit." Miles cursed.

"What?"

"That means they were watching us."

"Oh you mean, me saving your ass?"

"Yeah … and when I sixty nine'd you crawling back up the root."

Sawyer laughed and closed his eyes, his body succumbing to the exhaustion and release of the tension.

Horace burst into the security room, a slight sheen of sweat sparkling on his brow. "Show me! Where's the shot?"

Phil scrambled quickly at the computers, replaying the recording. "Here … you can see them climbing the cliff face and then they're out of sight until …" He trailed off as the video displayed the fall, both men sliding down the tree root and out of the view of the camera.

"Where'd they go?" Horace demanded quickly and pointed to the monitor labeled '#2'. "Bring up camera 216 on here. Show me. Now, Phil."

Phil licked his lips nervously and nodded. "I am I am. I'm trying." After a few minutes of clicking and knob turning, the desired camera image displayed on the monitor. A few more twisting knobs and every possible camera angle displayed for Horace.

"I can't see them." Horace stated then grabbed the radio from his belt. "Radzinsky. Get a van out to the north fence right away. Take four men with you. There's a situation in sight of camera 216 at the cliff."

Radzinsky's garbled response echoed over the radio. "Yes, sir."

Horace turned to Phil. "Why were they climbing the cliff anyway? The path around the cliff is a half a mile south of where they are? They don't have to climb the cliff. The path takes them up the hilly side."

Phil avoided the question, continuing to try to manipulate the cameras to find the two missing men.

"Phil?"

Resisting an answer, Phil twirled more knobs and fiddled with the switches to try and refocus the cameras.

"Phil," Horace insisted, calm and controlled. "Why were they climbing the cliff face?"

Phil sighed. "That's what we told them the patrol was. They've been doing it for months and have been fine!"

Horace frowned, voice firm. "Why would you tell them that? Did you think that was funny, Phil? Do you think it's funny they may have died? That I might have to go and tell Juliet that her boyfriend is dead because of your prank."

Phil sat, silent and ducked his head.

Horace sighed and licked his lips, eyes sad and weary. He offered no more words to Phil, instead turning and leaving the security station. Outside the security station, he paused in view of the motor pool and watched.

Juliet pushed out from under the van she worked on and curiously tilted her head. She sat up as Radzinsky and four men marched across the way from the security station. The four men hurried into the van. Juliet stood.

Radzinsky paused and spoke softly to Mike. Mike frowned, handing Radzinsky the keys. Radzinsky sighed and turned, eyes meeting Juliet's a moment before he opened the door to the driver's side and slipped inside. He drove off. Mike turned then and looked at Juliet, pity unmasked in his expression.

Juliet's stomach clenched. Her shoulders tensed and she held Mike's gaze, the worry compounding when the big man turned away from her. As Mike turned, her gaze remained steady and then locked on Horace.

Horace stood motionless, eyes on Juliet, his expression concerned. He could offer no smile, no words of comfort. If the worst were true and Miles and LaFleur were dead, it would ultimately be his fault. He could no longer hold her gaze and looked away.

Swallowing the frantic nerves, she crossed the motor pool towards Mike. "Mike."

The big man lay on his back on a wooden roller, working on the underside of one of the vans. He acted as if he did not hear her.

She banged on the side of the van. "Mike! Please. What happened?"

Mike paused and sighed then slid out, lifting up on his forearms to meet Juliet's gaze. "I don't know. There's been an accident."

"An accident?"

Mike nodded. "At the Northern Fence."

The words hovered between them, an ever present haze that refused permeation. Juliet turned her attention from Mike to Horace, the latter's back turned to her. She swallowed the lump in her throat but with no comfort. She stood, ignoring Mike as she walked purposefully towards Horace. "Horace."

Horace closed his eyes, aware of the coming moment. Calmed and relaxed, he turned to address Juliet.

She did not let him speak. "James."

"We don't know what happened."

Juliet appraised him, her eyes fixed on his. "You lie."

Horace sighed and averted his gaze then shook his head. He reached up with a hand, raking the stringy long hair back from his face before readjusting the glasses on his nose. "Juliet …"

"Show me." She repeated Horace's words back to him, her determination intense and multiplied with each passing moment. She oozed strength and confidence.

Horace could not see passed her façade, believing the calm exterior and unable to witness the turbulent emotions raging in her heart and scrambling her thoughts. He nodded, albeit submissively and led her back down the stairs of the security room. "We don't know what happened. We only have so many cameras and Radzinsky is the only one that can really work them all properly."

She spoke no words, following Horace silently. The haunting echo of their footsteps reverberated in the dark, tall cement tunnel. Once in the security office, she stood just behind Phil, watching the monitors. Horace reached passed Phil, who wisely moved out of the way and stood to the side. Twirling some more knobs and pushing a few buttons, he showed Juliet the found recording of Sawyer and Miles.

She watched the climb, the fall, minutes of nothing and then the two men slowly climbing again to the top. Her eyes narrowed and she reached out, fingers gently touching the monitor. Few details displayed on the monitors; all she knew was he climbed passed the view of the camera. "Did they call in?"

Horace shook his head. "No. And all attempts to reach them have failed."

"Why would that cliff be part of the patrol? It's insanity."

Horace sighed heavily. "It's not part of the patrol."

She frowned. "Why would they stray from the route?"

When Horace did not offer an answer, she faced him. Horace stared at Phil expectantly.

Phil crossed his arms defensively, thick brows pressed firmly together. "It was just a joke! I mean really, if they were that stupid to think you'd have to scale a fifty foot cliff as part of the patrol …"

Juliet turned her eyes to Phil. "You told them the cliff was part of the patrol."

Phil shrugged. "They've been doing it for months. It's just a prank."

"A prank." She repeated coolly and closed the distance between them. She blinked, eyes on the man's a long moment. She recoiled and punched him square across the cheek.

With no warning, Phil never had the chance to defend himself. He dropped to the floor, unconscious. She flexed her fist then turned from Phil and left without a word to Horace.

Horace rushed to Phil then knelt down to check his pulse then shake him slightly. "Phil … Phil, wake up."

Phil groaned and his eyes fluttered. "Wha happened?"

Horace helped him sit up. "Juliet knocked you out."

"What?"

Horace smirked. "Hell of a right hook. Sit tight." He stood and left Phil, racing after Juliet. When he reached the top of the stairs, he panted, winded. He searched the immediate area and spotted Juliet standing near the infirmary about forty yards away, pacing. Her eyes perpetually focused on the north, she paced the length of the entrance, waiting and watching.

Horace approached her cautiously and held back a few feet from her, unsure what to expect. "Juliet."

She lifted her eyes to him, no emotion displayed on her features. She held his eyes a long moment, evaluating and inspecting.

Horace shifted, uncomfortable under the unfamiliar gaze. "Radzinsky will bring him home."

She offered no response and continued to pace.

"I don't think Phil and the other men wanted Jim and Miles to be hurt in any way. Please, believe that. If I knew I would have stopped it immediately."

She turned at the words and approached Horace, standing within three feet before speaking through a soft and controlled voice. "I promised I had his back. I wasn't there."

"Juliet, you cannot go on every patrol with him."

She stepped away from him and to the opposite end of the small porch outside the infirmary before slowly returning to him. Words on the tip of her tongue refused to speak and she faced the North again, leaning against the post, waiting.

Horace sat on the bench at the infirmary, silent as well as he waited. Radzinsky would bring the men directly to the infirmary when and if he found them.

Author's Note: Here's another chapter of everyone's favorite couple, at least those reading these fics. Thank you so much for the reviews and love for my story. By all means, keep the reviews coming. They're great motivation to keep writing.