Red - Part 1
A/N: I love Taylor so much, y'all. Her and Elizabeth Mitchell might just be two of my favorite people in the world. So doing this makes me so happy. :) Also, this album is super long so I split it into two parts. I probably should have done that with Fearless too, but oh well. Hope you enjoy!
PS - the lyrics inspired the story, but they don't always apply directly. I tend to write the first thing that comes to mind, which makes for a fun writing exercise. :)
And I apologize in advance, but #5 is really morbid… :(
—-
#1 - State of Grace
You come around and the armor falls
Pierce the room like a cannonball
Now all we know is don't let go
We are alone, just you and me
Up in your room and our slates are clean
Just twin fire signs, four blue eyes…
…And I never saw you coming
And I'll never be the same
Juliet hadn't been sitting in the living room long when James showed up. His hair was mussed and he was rubbing one eye, while sleepily squinting out of the other.
Her bloodshot eyes found his in the low light and he stopped in his tracks. "Had to pee," he told her, his voice deep and froggy. "Saw the light on."
Juliet bit her lip to keep from crying. She pulled her knees to her chest on the couch, suddenly feeling more exposed than she was comfortable with, especially around him. She didn't want him to see her like this, but what choice did she have? He was staring at her, as if awaiting an explanation.
"I had a bad dream," she murmured. "I - " She didn't want to say the rest: that she was afraid; that she didn't want to be in the dark all alone; that she always felt alone these days.
He hesitated for a moment. Probably trying to decide what to do here - with his friend/not-friend. They'd only been with Dharma for a few weeks. Was that long enough to develop a friendship with someone who used to be your enemy?
He shuffled to stand next to her, and Juliet sucked in a tight breath. She expected him to tease her. Maybe even to tell her to get it together. She didn't know why she expected him to be mean. Maybe it was because he'd been so strong, and here she was, showing weakness, when they all needed to remain on their toes. It was bad enough she didn't feel like she really belonged with them in the first place.
But he stuck out his hand, and her mouth fell open. His stare was hard on her. He didn't need words. Juliet's eyes flicked between his eyes and his opened hand. She couldn't believe what he was offering. It didn't make any sense, and it took her a few seconds to process. But she was tired. And it was tempting - not to have to sleep alone tonight.
After several heartbeats, she agreed, and placed her hand in his. It was hot against hers, and goosebumps erupted on her forearm from the contact. She swallowed and met his eyes again, which didn't look so sleepy anymore.
"I've got your back," he whispered, as if he felt the need to explain his unexpected kindness. Juliet nodded, filled with gratitude.
He led her back to his bedroom. He said nothing to her as he drew back the covers, inviting her to get in. She obeyed, relishing in the fact that the sheets were still warm from his lingering body heat. And the sheets smelled like him - God, they smelled so good. And when his weight settled next to her, Juliet felt like her heart would rocket right out of her chest.
She turned on her side, facing him. In the darkness, she could see he was watching her. For several long moments, they stared at each other. It wasn't lost on either of them that they'd crossed a major boundary, and neither seemed regretful for having done so.
What started out as shifting to get comfortable soon moved to skin accidentally grazing skin. She'd merely meant to thank him, which was why she'd run her palm along his shoulder. But it had encouraged him to put his hand on her hip. She inched closer, as if pulled to him magnetically, and found his blue eyes hard and unreadable on hers.
Nothing in Juliet's life had ever made her feel so seen, so exposed, like the way his eyes bored into hers. It was like he was seeing right through her; like he could feel every shiver and every twitch caused by her racing heart. If he told her he could read her mind right there, right then, in the stillness of the night, she might've actually believed him.
But after a while, exhaustion swept over them both, and they fell asleep with mere inches between them.
It should have surprised her, when she awoke in his arms. But it didn't. Something had fundamentally changed between them, overnight, and Juliet had a sneaking suspicion that nothing would be the same after this.
And when she came to him the very next night, he welcomed her with blankets pulled back and a soft smile on his face.
As long as they had each other, they'd never be alone again.
—-
#2 - Red
Losing him was blue, like I'd never known
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met
But loving him was red
She lost track of how many times she hit the bomb, but the resulting blinding white light and tingles all over her body, like all her nerve endings had gone to sleep, was something Juliet could never forget.
She made muffins, just like she had done before. But the stinging behind her eyes caused her to forget to set a timer, so she burned them again, too.
She still hosted book club, with people she never belonged with, in a house that wasn't hers and James's. No one else seemed to remember ever living a life that was any different than this one, and Juliet wondered why she hadn't been lucky enough to forget too.
(Though, she wasn't sure she wanted to forget. She honestly couldn't decide which fate was worse.)
She pretended to listen to pretentious Adam, who didn't know what the hell he was talking about, but then all she could think was that it would be any moment now. It was almost time to find out if it worked.
Nothing happened. Her house didn't shake, the cacophony of screeching metal she expected to hear soaring overhead never came. And though she was grateful her sacrifice hadn't been in vain, it did nothing to stem the bleeding inside her body.
Because that's what losing him felt like: bleeding out, with no way to stop it. She felt like all she could do now was wait for Ben to die. Maybe then she could get off this rock, once and for all.
Because she had to have faith. That someday, maybe even in another life, she would see him again.
—-
#3 - Treacherous
I can't decide if it's a choice - getting swept away
I hear the sound of my own voice, asking you to stay
He'd asked her for two weeks, and she'd given them to him. And now she was in over her head, lost in feelings she never expected to have for anyone again.
She was drunk - they both were - and she blamed that as the reason for the kiss. But then… somehow, it had led to more, and now he was inside her and the desperation she felt was overwhelming, threatening to drown her.
Was this really happening? The tightness inside her chest, her heels urging him deeper and deeper, not wanting to let him go… was that what she thought it was? Or was it the alcohol, reminding her how alone she was, in this time and place she didn't belong in?
How could she have let this happen?
As expected, when he was done, he slid out from inside her and panted, trying to catch his breath. He only glanced over at her once, briefly and almost ashamedly, before sitting up and swinging his legs over the bed.
Juliet felt panic rising inside her chest, and she realized it was now or never. He was going to leave. And she didn't want him to.
She wasn't drunk enough for this.
"Wait," she heard herself say. It was soft and breathy, lighter than the breeze coming in through the opened windows. She wasn't even sure he heard it, because he stood and slipped into his boxers anyway.
But then he turned and looked down at her. "Juliet…" he said, and it sounded like a groan - a tortured one.
"Stay," she said, more firmly - losing confidence, and fast. "I want you to stay. Please." She was shaking, staring up at him in the darkness. She clutched the blankets tightly to her chest, feeling like she was going to pass out. She was certain she'd never felt more vulnerable in her life.
After what felt like an eternity, James relented. He slid back into bed beside her, and she laid her cheek on his chest. He rubbed her back in slow, even circles, and planted a delicate kiss on the top of her head.
"I like you, Juliet," he admitted, but it sounded pained - as if it hurt him to say it out loud. She wondered if it was the darkness or the alcohol giving him the courage. Maybe it was both.
"I like you too, James," she whispered back, and felt him relax beneath her. Because it was true, even if it took her a while to recognize the symptoms. It was why she'd asked him to stay - not just because she didn't want to be alone, but because she didn't want to be without him.
As she fell asleep, she couldn't help but wonder if that was maybe why he'd asked her to stay, too.
—-
#4 - I Knew You Were Trouble
'Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in
So shame on me now
She wasn't supposed to have anything to do with the prisoners. At least, none of them but Jack. It made her sick, just thinking about what she'd done. Who she'd been working for. How the cold metal had felt in her hands as she held the gun to Kate's head, or the way it had recoiled when she'd shot Danny. Twice.
But she'd done those things. They had been her choice. And she didn't fully grasp the weight of those choices until she entered the survivors' camp. How it felt when all eyes swiveled to her, locking onto her almost audibly, making her feel self-conscious. How they'd stopped what they were doing, aghast at the audacity of her just - walking in - the wolf in sheep's clothing.
It didn't matter that she had Jack's support. It didn't matter that she'd saved the lives of Sawyer and Kate. Because - she'd been the one to help hold them hostage, too.
For a moment after she'd killed Danny, there was a look on Sawyer's face - something akin to understanding. Like perhaps he knew how she felt, and maybe was grateful she'd decided to let them go.
But it was gone now. Now, he stared at her with a kind of maliciousness that made her stomach clench. He seethed in a way that she could feel from a distance.
Everyone in the camp hated her, she was certain of it. Sayid was someone who made her nervous too, but at least he was direct about it. But not Sawyer. Sawyer watched her from afar. It made her feel on-edge, all the time, even though he was nowhere near her. It felt like she had bugs on her skin - and there was nothing she could do to protect herself from the weight of his stare.
But then she realized… she couldn't blame him (or anyone else in the camp) for hating her. If she was being honest, she hated herself, too. So she let him stare. She let him plot and fantasize about destroying her, and whatever else he was thinking about in that gorgeous head of his.
Because… she deserved it. And she accepted her fate.
—-
#5 - All Too Well
Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it
I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it
James slipped out of the bar, almost too drunk to keep up appearances. The woman on his arm staggered too, though she was laughing and he wasn't.
He kept telling himself this would be the last con (how many times had he told himself that these days?) but her husband was a tech millionaire always traveling for work, and the potential payday was too easy. This was child's play, compared to what he'd pulled before.
He knew she wouldn't like it - like him - if she could see him now. But that's what the alcohol was supposed to be for, and apparently, it wasn't doing enough. Because he could still picture her disapproving frown. Still taste her blood in his mouth.
He needed another drink, but they'd already left the bar behind.
The woman beside him got into the cab, and he slipped in after her. She was a blonde. They all were, these days. She told the driver her address. James preferred it that way. He never brought anyone back to his place.
They went back to her house and barely made it through the front door before she was tearing off his clothes. He kept his eyes closed, playing his favorite game of pretend. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it made it worse. But tonight - he felt too numb to feel much of anything.
And after it was over, the same three thoughts burned like poison in his mind: that he missed her more than he could stand, that he wished he could have remained the man she'd helped him become, and that death couldn't come fast enough. He couldn't stomach living without her. How could he, when he couldn't even say her name anymore?
Lucky (or not) for him, he'd been too drunk after all, and had ended up passing out in his mark's bed. He never heard her husband coming home, never heard the gunshots, and it wasn't until Juliet's mouth was on his again in the hospital waiting room that he even remembered who he'd become without her.
—-
#6 - 22
It feels like a perfect night to dress up like hipsters, and make fun of our exes
It feels like a perfect night for breakfast at midnight, to fall in love with strangers
Juliet's stomach ached from laughing so hard. She couldn't remember the last time that had happened. It certainly hadn't been while she'd been on the island, and she could hardly believe it was happening now. With him, of all people.
Miles and Jin were working, only their second shift since finishing their training with Dharma security, which left her and James alone in their shared house. Daniel was long gone, and occasionally she found herself jealous of that. Except for, of course, times like these.
They'd started with beer, and reading on opposite ends of the couch. But it had evolved to wine when Juliet had grown tired of beer, and James had demanded she pour him a glass.
Perhaps if he hadn't been drinking wine, he wouldn't have spilled some on his only normal-looking t-shirt. He'd promptly changed into an unlawfully ugly bowling shirt, causing a very tipsy Juliet to break into hysterics. Spurred on by her reaction rather than annoyed by it, James modeled the hideous clothing and Juliet had clapped, demanding more.
That was how the fashion show started.
They cranked up the music, finished their bottle of wine, and took turns trying on the clothing they'd been given by their new neighbors. They could tell it had been the stuff from the reject pile, and hardly anything actually fit them properly. They modeled the various shades of brown and yellow, lime green and pepto-bismol pink, until they were rolling on the living room floor in stitches.
"I can't - I can't take anymore," Juliet wheezed, and flopped onto her back, staring at the tilting ceiling.
"What the fuck was up with those ruffles?" James laughed, and propped himself up on his elbows. He looked over at her, but she was too hypnotized by the ceiling fan to notice.
"Did you even see yourself in that plaid suit?"
They both snorted. That had been the turning point in this whole game. Or whatever this was.
When their laughter petered out, a strange kind of calm descended upon them. Despite everything they'd been through in the last few weeks - or for him, the last few months - they were having fun. And with each other, no less. The oddity of that was not lost on either of them.
"I want… food." Juliet's dreamy gaze finally turned towards James, a goofy smile adorning her face.
"What kinda food?" he asked, and tried to sit himself up. The room began to spin on its axis and he felt his stomach lurch. He wasn't sure food would do him any good right now. Or maybe it would? The wine was more acidic than he'd thought it would be. Maybe food would help.
"Mmm…" Juliet thought. She sat up too, and James saw her face turn slightly grey at the movement. They sat next to each other, backs against the couch, when suddenly she gasped. "Pancakes!" she squeaked in delight, and then slid into another giggle fit. He wasn't sure what the joke was, but he joined in anyway. Her laughter was too contagious to resist.
"Pancakes it is!" he announced, and forced himself to stand. He only wobbled a moment before he was able to drag himself into the kitchen and get to work. He pulled out the pancake mix and spatula and started throwing the ingredients into the bowl. He didn't read the instructions though; how hard could pancakes be?
Juliet graciously poured them glasses of water and hoisted herself up onto the counter to watch him work. It should have made him anxious, her blue eyes tracking every movement he made, but he was too drunk to care.
After the mix was made, he looked down into the gloopy mess. It was lumpy, but it would do, he supposed. He put a pan on the stove, poured the batter in, and then leaned against the counter to wait.
"This's been fun," Juliet said suddenly. Her voice was low and sexy, and it caught him by surprise. He turned to look at her, and noticed the pink in her cheeks that wasn't there before.
"Yeah. Sure has," he agreed. She ducked her head slightly, and a lock of hair fell into her face. Without thinking, he strode over to her and tucked the hair behind her ear. She looked up at him, alarmed, but didn't move away.
Her wine-red lips looked soft, James noted. And they were full, and slightly parted, her expression completely slack as she looked up at him. He didn't know if it was the alcohol or the fun night or the way she looked right now, but James was overwhelmed with the need to kiss her. It tugged at him just behind his bellybutton, like an anchor snagging on the rocky ocean floor.
But before he could move in, Juliet's eyes widened in panic. "The pancake!" she cried, and James turned around. It was burning on one side, smoke creeping out around the edges. He turned off the eye, removed the pan, and chucked the blob into the trash.
"I think I'm too drunk for this," he admitted, scratching the back of his head with his free hand, and Juliet let out another musical laugh.
"It's okay. I think I need to lay down anyway."
She hopped off the counter and moved towards him with a grace that shouldn't have been possible with the amount of alcohol he'd seen her drink. He set the pan back onto the stove just in time for her to reach out her hands to cup his cheeks. They were cool and felt so good on his flaming hot face.
She pressed the most delicate kiss to his lips, and though it only lasted a few seconds, James felt that anchor in his belly tug tight.
Her eyes were glittering with mischief when she pulled back, and she whispered, "Goodnight, James," before leaving him alone in the kitchen, stunned into paralysis.
What an unexpected, but perfect, fucking night this had been.
—-
#7 - I Almost Do
I bet you think I either moved on or hate you
'Cause each time you reach out there's no reply
I bet it never ever occurred to you
That I can't say "Hello" to you, and risk another goodbye
"Just call him, Juliet," Rachel demanded, standing over Juliet, who was sitting cross-legged on the couch. She pushed down the top of Juliet's magazine, forcing her sister to meet her eyes.
"I can't, Rach," Juliet responded, trying to keep her voice level and even. But it squeaked at the end, betraying her discomfort. Betraying her anxiety, just at the thought.
Rachel rolled her eyes. "It's been two weeks since you got home. Who cares that he went to Arizona or whatever? Call him."
Juliet set the magazine on her lap. She pursed her lips, not sure how to explain the fight they'd had. How she'd screamed at him. How he'd smashed his fist into the motel room door. How hard she'd cried, hailing a taxi to drive her to the bus station, where she'd ridden the rest of the way to Rachel's house in tatters.
She'd left him there in Tallahassee. All alone. He hated Tallahassee.
"It was New Mexico, and I can't. I just - I left him there. He never wants to see me again, I just know it."
"How? How do you 'know it'?" Rachel crossed her arms across her chest, glaring down at her stubborn sister.
Because he basically told me so, Juliet thought. She remembered the single text message she'd gotten, the day after she'd arrived in Miami: Going to meet Clem. Maybe I'll see you in another life.
Her eyes had burned, reading the message, and she'd cried for almost two days, wondering what the hell had been wrong with her. Why she'd done such a cruel and unwarranted thing.
Yes, they'd fought. Yes, they'd both said things they probably shouldn't have. But it had never been that bad between them before. She couldn't help but wonder if this had been what her parents had experienced too - little fights that eventually culminated in something they couldn't come back from. As if everything leading up to that moment had all just been make-believe.
At Rose and Bernard's camp, it had been the last straw for her already frayed nerves. And when the bomb dropped and the world went white, she came to terms with the fact that their love wasn't as easy as she'd once thought it was. They scraped and clawed to get off the island, and just as it all started to fall back into place for them, and they finally started finding their way back to one another, the argument started. She couldn't even remember where it had come from - but everything had been dredged up from the deepest pits of their souls: how she didn't trust him, how he couldn't rely on her; she shoved his past back in his face, and he, too, reminded her of her own mistakes. It had been a bloodbath.
They'd been supposed to catch a commercial flight to Miami in the morning, but she'd taken the bus instead. Clearly he hadn't gotten on the flight, either. She hadn't heard from him since that one single text, basically telling her he never wanted to see her again. Not in this lifetime.
"I just know," Juliet sighed, and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes.
Rachel gritted her teeth and sat down heavily next to Juliet on the couch. "Why won't you try?" she asked, and her voice was somber, filled to the brim with a pity that Juliet couldn't stomach.
She didn't know how to explain it. The shame was like acid in her lungs. "I can't - " she started to say, and then had to clear her throat. She bit her lip, turning the red skin as white as her face. "I couldn't bear to hear how much I hurt him. I - " She couldn't finish her statement. But she didn't have to. Rachel understood.
She blew out a heavy breath. "Look, Jules. If you love each other as much as it seems you did, then he will want to hear from you. He's probably hurt that you haven't reached out already." She gave Juliet's shoulder a squeeze and stood. "If it's already over between you, then you have nothing to lose, do you?" She tried to smile before walking down the hallway to her bedroom, but it didn't quite meet her eyes.
Juliet turned her phone over in her hand. She stared at the screen, reading over the number of his burner phone over and over and over again in her mind. Minutes passed, and the weight of the silence pressed down on her, suffocating her like the humid Miami air.
Perhaps Rachel was right. The worst had already happened, hadn't it? He couldn't possibly hurt her any more than she was already hurting. She'd been stupid not to call him before now. Not when she at least owed him an apology.
Before she lost her nerve, she pressed the call button. It rang four times, all while Juliet began progressively sweating through her shirt. Just before the fifth ring, a deep, rumbling voice answered. It sounded like he'd been asleep.
"'Bout time you called, sunshine," he drawled, and Juliet burst into tears. She could swear she could hear him smiling through the phone, over thousands of miles of distance. Despite dozens and dozens of mistakes.
Perhaps this goodbye wasn't a permanent thing after all.
—-
#8 - We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together
I remember when we broke up the first time
Saying, "This is it, I've had enough."
James remembered shouting, though at that point he'd been too far gone to know what he'd said.
He remembered the way his arms and legs felt - like they were tingling, like they were separate entities from his body - as he hurled himself out the front door, screaming that he was done - that they were done. He'd left her standing in the dining room, stunned into an Other-like stillness that never failed to piss him the fuck off.
He remembered flying into Miles and Jin's house, like a tornado raging through the Midwest, still shaking from the adrenaline coursing through his body.
He remembered throwing up in their bathroom, after only two minutes of being there. Like his body was trying to rid himself of the shame that burned in his gut like poison.
James recalled how it felt, picturing her face as she stood there. Abandoned. How in the moment, he'd interpreted her statuesque posture as some kind of callous disinterest, but he soon realized he was wrong. She cared. More than she should, given the volatile son of a bitch he was back then, but still. Deep down, he knew she loved him, even then. She didn't need to say it.
He could still see her face in his mind, both when he left, and when he returned with his tail between his legs. How she'd been sitting at the dining room table, as if her legs had been unable to carry her the short distance to the couch. She'd been as white as a sheet, and shaking from head to toe.
He'd only been gone fifteen minutes. And it was fifteen minutes too long.
He'd never forget how it felt to whisper he was sorry. How anguished he'd been, urging and pleading, desperate for her to understand, to accept his apology. To forgive him. How he'd held her trembling form against his. How small she'd felt in his arms. How she'd been incapable of words.
He needed to remember. No matter how painful it had been, or how traumatized they'd both felt.
It was the only way to ensure it never happened again.
—-
#9 - Stay Stay Stay
You took the time to memorize me
My fears, my hopes and dreams
I just like hanging out with you all the time
James licked his lips three times before he had the courage to say her name. She was curled against his torso, one hand propped under her chin and the other bracing her book against his thigh. They were in his bed, in the new house he'd been granted as Head of Security. And everything was perfect. More perfect than James felt was possible.
"Hmm?" she responded, as light as a feather. She was engrossed in whatever she was reading. It was the only thing that gave James the courage to speak. Her attention wasn't fully on him. He didn't feel like he was under the microscope.
"You wanna move in with me?" he rasped, and then coughed for good measure. Juliet was already still, relaxed as she read, but he could feel her body go rigid at the question. He wasn't sure he'd be able to breathe until she responded.
She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "Really?" she asked, as if she were surprised. He wasn't sure why that was. They'd been doing this - them - for a year, almost. He may not have told her he loved her, but surely she knew. Right?
He shifted uncomfortably. "If ya wanna. Ya don't have to."
She studied him, and now he felt like he was under the microscope. He began to sweat, but before he could start backpedaling even further, she grinned.
"You want to live with me?" she whispered, and seemed to subconsciously duck her chin. Like she couldn't believe that he wanted this.
"How could I not?" he all but gasped, as feeling rushed back into his body, his fingertips. He couldn't think of a single reason why he wouldn't want to live with her. She knew him inside and out. She anticipated his every need before he even knew he needed it. She cared for him, and lifted him up… she was his best friend.
Juliet chuckled and shut her book. "I guess I just thought you were more the lone-wolf type."
James frowned. "Well, maybe I was. But not with you. I just - I guess I like havin' you around. That so bad?" He ran a finger down her cheek, loving the flush that still bloomed at his touch. It never failed to amaze him. It was like magic.
"I suppose not," she murmured, and leaned in to press a tender, but chaste, kiss to his lips. "I like having you around too." She looked into his eyes, their faces inches apart, and smiled wider than perhaps he'd ever seen.
Everything about this - about her - was perfect. And he couldn't wait to have even more of it.
—-
#10 - The Last Time
Find myself at your door, just like all those times before
I'm not sure how I got there, all roads, they lead me here
I imagine you are home in your room, all alone
And you open your eyes into mine, and everything feels better
James's favorite thing to do in the evenings was sit on his porch and read. He told Miles and Jin it was to get away from them, and though that was partially true, it wasn't the only reason.
Juliet's house was directly across from theirs, and from this spot he could see into her living room. He wasn't a creep, he was just… intrigued. And it wasn't a crime to look, especially when her windows were open. The sun was setting, making the light that shone through all the more brighter.
Besides - if she wanted her privacy, that was what curtains were for. It wasn't his fault she chose not to use them.
One evening in particular, James found himself lost in a rabbit hole of his imagination. In his mind, he actually had the balls to go over to her house. To knock on the door, and ask her to have dinner with him. In this fantasy of his, she'd not only say yes, but she'd grab his collar and tug him inside, asking what took him so long. Her lips would find his, and she'd thread her fingers through his hair.
She'd call him James. In that melodic, unironic, genuine way of hers.
It was such a pleasant daydream that the sun finished its descent before he came to, shaking himself out of his stupor.
Just in time to find Juliet watching him back.
She was sitting in her chair by the window, leaning her elbow on the windowsill. She rested her chin on her palm, and was watching him with a sort of curious delight that set his blood pressure skyrocketing and his cheeks blazing.
How long had she been watching him?
He ducked his chin in greeting, horrified. But she merely smiled and gave him a small wave. Torn between chucking himself off a cliff and handing himself over to the Hostiles, James moved to stand. He couldn't get out of this any other way but escaping.
But Juliet stood too. He watched as her figure disappeared from view and reappeared at her now open doorway. James extended to his full height and leaned against the pillar, not sure what to do.
She waved again, catching his full attention. And then - she curled her pointer finger, smiling, beckoning him to go over there.
James's heart stuttered. He swallowed hard, and squinted, certain he wasn't seeing her right. But she laughed and used her whole hand this time, waving it towards her.
As if moving on their own accord, James's feet carried him awkwardly over to her house. He felt certain that this was a trap - it had to be. She was going to berate him for staring and call him a pervert, or something. He could just feel it.
But when he got to her porch, she moved to the top step, her arms now crossed across her chest. Now eye-level with him, he could see she looked devious. Her eyes sparkling with mischief, and her lips now twisted to the side in a sneaky smile.
His stomach dropped. He knew he was caught. So, he let his instincts take over. He opened his mouth to explain, to weasel his way out of this, when she placed her arms on his shoulders, wrapping them loosely around his neck.
Every nerve in his body started tingling, and he froze. Uncertainty carved out his stomach, making him suddenly feel sick.
"If you wanted to come over here, all you had to do was ask," Juliet purred. James placed his sweaty hands on her hips, wondering where the hell these nerves were even coming from. Women were his specialty, his expertise. He didn't know why this one woman rattled him so much. How she managed to get so far under his skin, he didn't even feel like himself anymore.
Luckily, she made up for what he was lacking in the social charm department. She leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek. He sucked in a breath, the action unexpected and sweet, catching him off-guard.
When she pulled back, James noticed the yellow porchlight behind her, making her glow like the rising sun. And even in shadow, he could see her pink-tinged cheeks as she looked sheepishly at him. Waiting for his reaction.
He didn't need to live in a fantasy anymore. Instinct took over and he reached up to cup her warm cheeks. He closed his eyes, pressing his lips to hers, and let the fireworks explode inside his chest.
After, he murmured against the delicate skin of her lips, "Can I come over?"
Her laughter echoed all the way to his house as she grabbed him by his collar and dragged him inside.
He made sure to close her curtains.
—-
#11 - Holy Ground
And darling, it was good - never looking down
And right there where we stood was holy ground
James felt his body trembling as they huffed and puffed and pushed their way up the steep incline. Juliet had sworn this hike wasn't too difficult, but his almost 40-year old body was screaming in protest with every step. He cursed her under his breath, as sweat dripped into his already burning eyes.
"We're almost there," she called over her shoulder, her voice ragged, and James knew she was probably regretting this too. She said she hadn't been here in three years - and clearly those years had taken their toll. Her stamina probably wasn't what it once was.
After trudging through the (arguably) longest two minutes of his fucking life, they finally crested the hill and emerged into a bright clearing. James placed his hands on his knees and wheezed, but Juliet yanked on his arm, trying to pull him closer to the edge.
"Please tell me we're gonna throw ourselves off the side," he moaned, and weakly tried waving her off. But she held firm.
"No, but look!"
The wonder and awe in her voice convinced him to raise first his eyes, then the rest of his body. She was right. The view from the top of this mountain was… breathtaking. Deep, emerald green sprawled out for miles; the bright, glittering turquoise of the ocean, and in the distance, the deep navy blue, looked like nothing he'd ever seen before. He wasn't sure he'd anything quite as beautiful as this.
But then he looked over at her - at the way the wind was blowing her ponytail around her face. How her flushed pink cheeks contrasted against the baby blue sky beyond. How it accentuated her eyes, and how bright and innocent her smile was. There was no trace of the exhaustion that had been plaguing her only moments before. Just… peace. Beautiful, indescribable peace.
"I love you, ya know," he croaked. Despite the gorgeous landscapes beyond, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.
Her smile looked permanently plastered to her face, and her eyes danced as they flicked over to him. She laced her fingers through his and tugged playfully. "I love you too," she said lowly, like she was sharing a secret, and somehow smiled even wider.
And suddenly James didn't care so much about the view. With his free hand, he cupped the side of her face, bringing it close to his. He pressed his lips firmly against hers and groaned as she opened her mouth, sliding her tongue against his.
The view could wait. It was nice, sure, but it was nothing compared to this. Compared to her.
—-
#12 - Sad Beautiful Tragic
Long handwritten note, deep in your pocket
Words, how little they mean when you're a little too late
James's hands were blistered, but he hardly felt them. The roaring of the ocean behind him drowned out the sound of his blood pounding through his body, along with the swishing of the sand as he dug. And dug. And dug.
Fucking Juliet. It was only right that they bury him, she'd said. The guy James had killed. Yet another to add to the list. And so he'd relented. Didn't seem to have much of a choice in the matter. It was his fault Tom was dead, anyhow.
Out of habit, he stuck a finger in his pocket. He'd been doing that a lot the last couple days. It was like a phantom limb, not having the letter with him. He felt almost naked without it. Without his raging fury running through his veins.
Now… he felt nothing.
"Why do you keep doing that?" Juliet asked, wiping her forearm across her forehead. It smeared dirt on her face, drawing James's attention to how stark her blue eyes looked against her pale skin. For someone who'd been living on a tropical island, she was awfully pale, he thought.
"None ya business, Barbie," James growled and removed his hand. He went back to shoveling.
She scrunched her nose in distaste. "Barbie? Really?" She shook her head and continued working.
"What, you don't like it? Tough shit, Blondie." Arguing with her ignited something in him. Something he couldn't put his finger on.
She said nothing about the nickname, but asked again, "Did you lose something?" He shot her a warning glance, but she didn't back down. She held his stare, and it was its own unique challenge - not looking away, either.
He tossed the shovel into the jungle and glared at her. He pulled a beer from the back of the van and gulped it down. He closed his eyes, trying to erase the image seared into his brain of Cooper clawing at the chains. Of the letter being ripped to shreds. Of the last little bit of humanity leaking out of him, floating away in the stale air of the Black Rock.
When he opened his eyes and pulled the can away from his mouth, Juliet was still watching him. He stared right back. It was certainly better than what he had been thinking about, anyway.
—-
#13 - The Lucky One
New to town with a made-up name
In the angel's city, chasing fortune and fame
And the camera flashes make it look like a dream
"Get together everyone!" came the security guy's impatient voice as he signaled for the newest recruits to get in a line for a photo. James squinted to see the nametag written on his tan jumpsuit. It read "Phil." He decided then and there he didn't much care for this Phil guy. Not one bit.
The five of them stood there awkwardly. James didn't know what to do with his hands. He stood between Jin and Juliet, with Miles and Daniel flanking Juliet's other side. He settled for putting them in his pockets. It beat trying to weave them around anyone's shoulders.
Phil huffed in annoyance and snapped the photo. The flash stung James's retinas, causing a nervous flutter in his stomach. It reminded him of the time jumps. So much for laying low, he thought.
"There's food in the rec room if you want. Welcome to the Dharma Initiative." Phil could not have been less enthused.
When he left, the five of them looked at one another in barely-disguised fear. It was one thing to have their blood taken and some unknown substance shot into their bodies at 'Orientation,' but it was another to have their photo taken. Thirty years in the past. When they weren't supposed to be.
"That's okay, right?" Miles asked warily, eyeing Daniel for confirmation.
Daniel shrugged, and opened his mouth slightly. He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to think of a way to explain what he was thinking. "We can't change the past, see? So… we've always come here. To this time."
Miles groaned in response, and laid a hand flat on the top of his head. "I don't get it."
"I've lived here three years, Daniel," Juliet added lightly, slowly, as if trying to avoid provocation. "I've seen photos of the Dharma Initiative members. I've never seen my - our - photo before."
"But that doesn't mean we never took it," he replied, matching her tone.
"This is surreal," Miles moaned. "We've been here two weeks. Two weeks. We should've found a way back by now!"
Jin looked off into the distance, his face mournful and too full of longing for James to watch for long. "Look - ain't nothin' we can do 'bout it now. That guy, Horace - he insisted this was what we had to do. Y'all heard him. It was the only way to stay."
"Did you ever see anything about a 'Jim LaFleur' being a Dharma guy before, Juliet?" Miles interrupted, ignoring James.
Juliet shook her head. "A lot of files were lost or destroyed. Not everything, of course, but enough."
"So, then how do we know this is what really happened?" Miles hissed back at Daniel.
Daniel frowned. "Because we're here. Now."
"This is too fucking much. I'm living in a goddamn dream," Miles bit out, and stalked away from them.
Jin shook his head. "I am - with Miles," he spoke carefully, and walked off to follow him.
Daniel sighed. He turned his attention towards James and Juliet, and said, "I know it might not make sense. But this, now, is our present. However long we live here, with them…" he trailed off, going somewhere deep inside his head.
"Is however long we lived with them, whether we knew about it or not," Juliet finished, and Daniel nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. Without another word, he turned and followed Jin and Miles.
James didn't know what to say. He didn't think they'd still be here, either. "I really thought Locke woulda come back by now," he muttered angrily, and kicked a twig by his foot.
"Me too," Juliet responded. She was looking down at the ground, nervously picking at a fingernail. After a moment, something flashed behind her eyes. A memory. She turned to James and said, "There is one thing I remember…"
"What?"
Juliet bit her lip, barely able to meet his eyes. "It was a report. I don't remember the year. But it talked about how a group of recruits vanished one day, never to be seen again. No one was mentioned by name. It was assumed they joined the Hostiles."
James felt a cold shiver tingle at the base of his spine. "You think that was us?"
Juliet wrapped her arms around her torso, as if she were trying to keep herself together. "I don't know."
"You remember anything else about it?"
She looked down again. "No. I wish I did."
James swallowed and looked around. Life was going on all around them, as normal. Kids were playing on the swingset, a man passed by them on his bike. A couple was talking on a bench in the distance, holding hands and sharing quick kisses every so often.
People were living their lives, completely oblivious to how this would all end for them. It made James sad in a way he hadn't expected.
"Then I guess there's nothin' else to do but wait." He blew out a heavy breath. "Try an' live our lives, I guess."
The way Juliet looked at him was somber, almost pitiful, as she seemed to mull over his words. "If they were us… then maybe there's still hope."
"Exactly," he agreed, and patted her shoulder with a heavy hand. It felt weird, to touch her. He was still getting used to that. "So for now… we just see what happens I guess."
"Yeah… I suppose that's all we can do."
James removed his hand and shuffled awkwardly in place. "In the meantime… ya wanna get some food?" He pointed to the rec room, where their supposed 'welcome banquet' of fruit and cheese awaited them. Phil had said they weren't going to grill out for "just five people."
Juliet smiled softly and nodded. "I'd like that."
(Weeks later, James found the photo. He stole it, folded it up, and put it in his pocket. He decided to keep it, and was able to find an empty shoebox to hide it in. He put it at the top of his and Jin's closet, figuring it was best to keep it out of Dharma's records. Just in case.)
—-
#14 - Everything Has Changed
And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies
The beautiful kind, makin' up for lost time
Takin' flight, makin' me feel like I just wanna know you better
James found Juliet staring into space on their front porch. She was still wearing her stained blue jumpsuit, and had smudges on her cheeks. It was as if, for whatever reason, she couldn't make it past the threshold of the house, and had settled onto the rickety chair instead.
She looked exhausted, but she shouldn't be, James thought. They'd just settled in. No more time flashes, no more running for their lives. Not for a while, at least. Or so he hoped.
"Hey," he said, approaching her warily. Her eyes flicked over to his, but then returned to some unknown spot in the distance. It was the only acknowledgment that she'd even heard him. "What's on the TV tonight?" he joked after a moment of silence, sinking into the chair next to her. He tried to see what she was looking at, but he couldn't really tell.
"Nothing," she answered, her voice distant but grave.
James scoffed. "Clearly somethin's on your mind."
"Maybe," she replied, sighing through her nose. She pulled her knees to her chest. "But it doesn't matter."
"Sure it does."
She shot him a sidelong glance. "Since when do you care?" Her voice was terse, but not unfriendly. Still, it made James flinch. He cared. Had for a while, actually. But she didn't know that.
"Since you became one 'a my people." It was honest enough. Perhaps more honest than he'd been with her in the last month. He watched her face, seeing if it opened her up even a small amount.
After a few heartbeats, she turned her head back to its original position. "That's my house, over there." She inclined her head slightly, and James followed her line of sight. The small yellow bungalow in the distance looked just like all the others - battered and unremarkable.
"Oh." He wasn't sure what else to say. It had caught him by surprise. He'd almost forgotten she used to live here, long before he ever did.
"Yeah. Oh."
They were quiet for a long while, just staring at the house. He hoped whoever lived there now wasn't home. He was trying to keep them under the radar, not written up for being creeps.
"Must be weird," he suggested, clearing his throat.
Juliet nodded. "One minute I thought I might actually get off this island, and now? I'm the furthest away from home I've ever been," she hiccuped, and her sudden intake of breath caused a flash of alarm in James's chest. He reached out a hand, almost instinctively, and placed it on her arm. Maybe it was because that was what she did to him, when he was upset. It felt like the right thing to do.
"Hey…" he soothed, and Juliet turned to look at him. Her eyes were bloodshot, and he could tell she was trying to keep her face from crumpling. It broke something apart inside him, something he hadn't expected, and he suddenly felt overwhelmingly nervous. "It's just time travel," he intoned sarcastically. "Don't everybody go through it at some point in their lives?"
Juliet choked out a strangled giggle, and James felt his stomach flutter at the sound. He kept going, encouraged by it. "Just think - ya thought we were a ragtag group of freaks before? At this rate, we're gonna be both middle-aged and goin' through puberty at the same time. What kinda shit hand is that?"
Juliet laughed a little harder, and shook her head at his goofiness. "How fortunate for us…"
James chuckled and finally removed his hand from her arm. He wasn't sure how much longer it would be welcomed there. But the second he removed it, his fingers tingled, wanting to touch her again.
Eventually, Juliet's laughter petered out and she wore a sobered expression on her face. She turned to face him, pinning him with her azure stare. "Doesn't it bother you? That we're stuck here?"
He didn't hesitate. Maybe once upon a time he would lie and play it off that he wasn't as disturbed as he really was, but he didn't want to be that way with her. Not anymore. And he really didn't know why. "Course it does. But we gotta survive, don't we? Ain't much else to do other than wait, an' try'n make the best of it."
"But for how long?" She furrowed her eyebrows, looking like a distressed child. It made James smile, despite the somber mood. She looked cute when she pouted.
"As long as it takes. We just gotta stick together in the meantime." Juliet frowned, looking unconvinced. After a beat, James sighed and added, "It'll be alright, Juliet. You ain't alone in all this. It's the furthest any of us've been from home."
Her eyes flashed at the sound of her name. Her frown dissipated and he could have sworn the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. She said nothing, but nodded her acknowledgment.
Cheering her up did something to James's stomach. He wasn't sure what it was, but he felt like he'd swallowed bubbles, and everytime he locked eyes with her, one of them popped, sending a shivering sensation through his nerve endings.
It felt so good, getting inside her head. Seeing the real her, and not the mask she always wore. It was almost startling to see that underneath it all, she was just as scared and out of place as the rest of them. He couldn't deny that at first, he thought she'd feel right at home here - it didn't matter if it was Dharmaville or New Otherton. But clearly he'd been wrong.
A few minutes passed, of them sitting together in companionable silence. James wanted to keep talking to her, but he needed a shower, and he was starving. And as much as he felt compelled to stay in her orbit, he needed to get inside.
He moved to stand, but her voice stopped him. "Thank you," she whispered, and her blue eyes sparkled back up at him. She no longer looked forlorn and distressed. She looked like, perhaps, she might be at peace. It sent rolling waves of bubbles cascading through his stomach, making him feel almost queasy.
James grinned. He couldn't help it. "Anytime, sweetheart." He went back inside, but he couldn't help but sneak a peek at her through the living room window.
She was still sitting in the same chair, but instead of looking out at her old house and scowling, she was looking down into her lap. And she was smiling.
—-
#15 - Starlight
Oh my, what a marvelous tune
It was the best night, never would forget how we moved
The whole place was dressed to the nines
And we were dancing like we're made of starlight
Neither James nor Juliet enjoyed these charity functions, but Juliet had insisted it was important to 'save face' by attending them. David was at Jack's, which meant they only had to mingle for a few hours before they could go home and the real party could begin.
James pulled into the hotel parking lot and adjusted his tie. He grumbled, catching his reflection in the rearview mirror. He hated wearing tuxes. He felt wrong in them, like when people put clothes on their cats. It just didn't feel or look right, and he couldn't wait to shrug out of it later.
But it was important to Juliet that they do this. These schmucks paid her salary, so he needed to behave. He knew that. So, he stowed his badge in his inside pocket, certain he wouldn't need it, but would otherwise feel naked without it, and stepped out of the car.
He wandered into the ballroom where the event was being hosted, and glanced around the room. Juliet had brought her clothes to work with her, insisting it wouldn't be worth it to go home and change after her shift ended. She was supposed to meet him here at 7, and though he was a few minutes late, he expected to see her by now.
He felt a tapping on his shoulder, and turned around, already peeved at having to socialize without her. But then his jaw dropped.
He felt his eyes widen as he drank in the sight of her: Her blonde hair curled and pinned up on the sides; her long, navy blue dress glittering in the crystal glow of the chandelier above them, with a slit ending just above the knee; her easy smile as she did the same to him, eyes roaming over his stupid tuxedo, as if she were just as entranced as he was. But that couldn't be. Because she was pure starlight, blinding him with her radiance, and he was just a guy in a suit.
"You look…" he started to say, but he could actually feel himself drooling. He swallowed it down. "You look beautiful."
"You clean up well, too, Detective," she winked and flashed him a flirtatious smile. He couldn't believe they had to stay here for this. "But you're late."
His eyes landed on the deep cleavage of her dress, and when he didn't answer her, she tilted his chin gently upwards. I'm right here, her eyes seemed to say.
"Sorry. Traffic."
"Mmm. Well. I've saved us seats over there," she said, pointing to the corner of the room, where they'd get the most privacy. "Todd and Angie will be sitting with us."
James spied the couple he'd met a handful of times, both coworkers of hers, but the music got louder as the live band took to the stage, and James got distracted. He looked back at Juliet, who radiated grace and sophistication. What on earth was someone like her doing here with someone like him?
He felt almost choked up, remembering that this was his life now. That against all odds, they'd found one another, and were making it work. Together, they were working past the guilt and the shame and the fear that had separated them, and instead trying to rebuild a life based on love, and acceptance, and patience.
It felt surreal. And he couldn't believe how lucky he'd gotten. In a room full of rich guys with doctorates and summer homes and porsches, or whatever, he felt the richest. Because she only had eyes for him.
"Dance with me, Blondie," he murmured, and tucked his keys into his pocket before taking both of her hands in his.
Her eyebrows raised suspiciously. "Dance with you? You don't like dancing."
"Maybe I do," he grinned wickedly, and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. "When it's with you."
She flushed, and pursed her lips to keep from smiling. "We'll have to mingle eventually, you know."
"I know."
She seemed to consider it, and then placed a tender kiss to his lips. She wiped at them with her thumb after she pulled away, and her eyes sparkled mischievously.
"Let's do it," she agreed, and pulled his hand to the dance floor.