Just a heads-up that the structure of the story isn't changing, but rather than posting two more big parts, I'm going to post a few shorter parts similar in length to part 1. No enabling, now. I have to learn to write the shorter ones!

"If you find me, hide me, I don't know where I've been.
When you phone me, tell me everything I did.
If I'm sorry you lost me, you'd better make it quick
'Cause this call costs a fortune and it's late where you live.
It's late where you live."

- Emily Haines, "Crowd Surf off a Cliff"

"Andrew-come-on-Amelia-Bedelia-is-here!" Seth shouts at the bottom of the stairs before racing back to the front door.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Miles is protesting, the folded highchair thumping against his hip as Seth drags them inside. "What ever happened to 'Aunt Betsy and my-favorite-Uncle-Miles-ever are here'?"

"You ceased to be exist once she was born." Juliet wriggles her hands impatiently, and Betsy obediently hands over the baby, Seth dancing around in an impatient half-circle. Juliet kneels down so Seth can see Amelia, but mostly she's just breathing in that sweet baby smell, even if, at 10 months old, Amelia is already squirming to get down and explore her new surroundings. The LaFleur house has been re-baby-proofed for the few days ahead, and anyway, it's been LaFleur-boy-proofed for years now, and other than the fact that their kids know not to mess with the cleaning supplies, it turns out the two things aren't all that different.

Andrew thunders down the stairs, James right behind him. "Amelia Bedelia!" Andrew says triumphantly.

"Hi to you too," Miles snarks as James grabs the baby from Juliet.

"Wah wah, I see ya every day at work. Hey, Bets." James leans over to give Betsy a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for this. We really appreciate it."

Betsy smiles; James and Juliet had done more than their fair share of baby-sitting since Amelia had been weaned. "No problem. Just don't ignore Miles too long. You know how whiny he gets."

"I promise we found teething rings for both of you," Juliet assures him.

James still hasn't relinquished the baby, who's trying to reach for a picture frame on a high shelf over his shoulder. That picture in the frame: a fading Polaroid from Dharma days, the edges curling up against the glass. Too out-of-focus, too haggard-looking to warrant a frame except it was taken at their induction barbecue in 1974. (And it wasn't like they'd had all that much time to grab their most precious possessions before they got punched out in the security station, anyway.) James moves away a little, shifting the baby down and puffing out his cheeks at her.

"Don't get any ideas," Juliet warns him.

James smirks. "Likewise." Finally he plops the baby on a blanket that the boys have laid out in anticipation, although Amelia is clearly determined to not stay on it. It's amazing how those boys can fight between them and then be falling all over their honorary baby sister.

"Hey guys, you know what we got? I rented 'Back to the Future' for the VCR," Miles tells the boys, sending James and Juliet a devilish smirk.

"Yeah!" Andrew cheers.

"Remember you don't use the bad language in that movie, right, guys?" James prompts.

Seth glances up from his spot on the floor, trying to show Amelia the baby toys James had located in the attic yesterday. "But Daddy, this morning you said son of a - "

"OK!" James interrupts, clapping his hands together and ignoring Juliet's sideward glare. "Time for us to get going."

Seth frowns. "And you swear you're not going to Disney without us?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Juliet starts running down her litany. "OK, you know you if you wake up before 7, you have to play quietly in your rooms, NO FIGHTING because it'll upset the baby. Seth, peanut butter does not go in shoes and Andrew, if you ever lock your brother in the closet again - "

"I know, I know," Andrew mutters darkly.

"Jeez, Jim," Miles pipes up. "Wouldn't it be amazing if someone could invent some kind of tiny little phone you could take around with you everywhere? So if the kids started acting up..."

"You and your ideas," Betsy murmurs in wonderment.

She's a sweet girl, and Juliet's happy Miles found her, but all the same, she can't help thinking sometimes Betsy might not be the brightest wrench in the toolbox. The girl never ever wonders why her husband's so damn obsessed with the future and all those fancy, mostly technically imaginary, gadgets... and why they all, including Jin, play pretty damn fast and loose with the stock market, yet never seem to invest in anything that's burned them yet? She never wonders? Then again, even if she did, why the hell would she ever possibly settle on the theory of 'trapped in the past'? (Trapped? Is that still what they are? Do they stop being trapped at some point? When they catch up to a future that's already passed them by? Or had they already stopped being trapped? When they had decided to just live?)

"You remember Andrew is allergic to strawberries, right?" Juliet blurts out.

Andrew heaves a gigantic sigh. "We all know that, Mom."

"Just checking." She and James give the boys hugs and kisses goodbye, and it tugs at her heart the way Seth's chin is suddenly trembling, but she just cups his face in both her hands and knows he's embarrassed to break down in front of his brother. "We'll call every night and every morning, OK?" she whispers to him, but then the rest of her list invades her brain, and Juliet snaps her face up toward Miles and Betsy. "And they have swimming at the rec on Friday at 11..."

"We know!"

James is pulling her toward the door.

"Too bad you didn't get that cool wood-paneled station wagon!" Miles calls after them.

Jeez, admit to test-driving one for amusement's sake one time...

They're halfway down the block when James laughs. "You didn't tell 'em to not color your shoes."

Juliet is so wired that she actually taps the brake. Stupid white nurses' shoes, of course they'd looked like something to color. It'll be at least a decade before they all start wearing scrubs and clogs. "You think I should've?"

"That was what? Two years ago? I'm just messin' with ya."

She shoots him a glare, her jaw clenched.

James coughs. "Sorry. You sure you don't want me to drive?"

Red light. She stops and shakes her head, determined. "Let me have first shift. I need to."

He looks over at her, suddenly as serious as he was silly a moment ago. "You got it, blondie."

There's the sign for I-95 South, huge and bright green and exactly the same as ever, and Juliet tightens her fingers around the steering wheel, her heart rate revving up as the engine revs up. She has to remind herself how to breathe for a minute, the surreality of the entire situation setting in around her for what's probably the millionth time since that very first white flash. Her eyes slide over toward James in the passenger seat, and he must sense her eyes on him, considering the brilliantly reassuring smile he gives her when he turns his head a moment later.

Juliet knows, has known for years that he doesn't think she should be doing this, any of this, and that's a big part of the reason why all along she's avoided it.

And sure, Juliet's accepted this whole thing, has accepted it for a long, long, long time now. The instant after the doctor plopped Andrew into her arms on a rainy night in October 1978, she knew this was it, this was her life and it was here, not anywhere else, not any time else, not anymore. And she held onto that baby, and she held onto James, and the three of them cried for all different reasons and some of the same ones.

It faded for a long time after that, the need. But then it started up again, the gravity pulling at her, accumulating from every page on the calendar they live all over again.

That same sort of gravity he'd avoided altogether in 1976. But she doesn't want to change anything. That's not possible, she knows it. All the same, it's all gotten too much lately, more and more as the kids get older, and she watches them play and fight and share sandwiches and pinch each other during car rides and hide each others' homework. And then, that day Andrew hit a kid on the playground for pushing Seth - even though they'd had to punish him for hitting someone - but God, it's just... the two of them, those two boys, together.

It's amazing and infuriating and wonderful, and it hurts more than she would have ever expected.

So James is doing this for her, just going with what she wants and not saying a word against it, not anymore. For that, she's unendingly grateful.

After all, how often does your big sister graduate from high school? Only once in a lifetime. Or twice, if you're Juliet.