A/N: Sooo... did everybody see the trailer for the new movie? Do I care about how they're in London? Nope. Do I care about how I get to see Carlos in a suit and tie? Nop- well, yeah, okay, definitely yeah. But do I care that there seems to be the TINIEST, SLIGHTEST, TEENIEST promise of whump (or as much as Nickelodeon can get with whump)? HELL TO THE YES.

Hey, I'm Lost, and I'm a dorky fangirl.

Enjoy!

...

James looked up as Camille leaned over the railing of her balcony. "Why is everybody getting out of the pool?" she called.

He grinned up at her. "'Cause I bet Carlos he couldn't make it to the pool if he jumped off of Jo's old balcony. We don't want bodily harm—Logan would kill us."

Camille shook her head. "He's going to get himself killed on day."

"No kidding." James frowned as he looked at her. "Uh… why are you in a wedding gown?"

"Like it?" she curtsied low. "I'm about to go tryout for "The Princess Bride 4." My audition's in an hour."

James frowned. "Then why are you ready now?"

"Duh." Camille twirled a curl in her hair. "I'm getting into character with the balcony scene."

Right, James thought. Character. Camille had enough of that for the whole cast.

…

A lot can happen in two minutes.

James was jolted awake. He could hear faint screams and the odd lap of water against metal. As he peered up at the sky—oddly blue and peaceful looking after what had just happened—James could see the balcony crumbling right from the building, heading towards the pool. Camille's breathless scream, how he went to help her and…

And something had knocked him out. James sat up gingerly, feeling for injuries. There was a violent bruise right smack in the middle of his forehead. He cringed, thinking about how that would leave a mark.

Wait. He came the rest of the way up and stared, horrified, at the pool. Camille's balcony was lodged into it, half out of the water and half submerged. The top had broken off and leaned heavily against the edge, teetering dangerously. Through the crack, James could see Camille's tell-tale curly dark hair floating in the water.

All conscious thought left him. Going off of pure instinct, James scrambled to his feet and slipped out of his torn jacket and shoes. The crack was just barely big enough for him to wriggle into it without touching the sides. If he were careful. He didn't even stop to think about how he would get Camille out of the crack.

James walked to the crack, peering inside of it. Camille's eyes were closed but he head rested against the corner of the pool, keeping her head elevated. He couldn't see if she was still breathing or not, but she had to be, right?

"Camille," he called, and cringed again at how horrible his voice sounded. Clearing it, he called again, "Camille!"

No answer. James didn't wait another second. He perched on the tile and slipped through the crack feet first. The water was freezing, as usual—he should've expected that. James caught his breath sharply as he slid the rest of the way in. Camille was in the deep end, which was almost six feet. James could barely touch the bottom, and when he did the water went over his head. It was alarmingly dark inside the pocket the balcony had made against the corner of the pool. It was barely big enough for the two of them to fit together, and the edge of the balcony seemed to teeter on its short edge further against the corner of the pool. James didn't think much of it as he reached out to steady himself, grasping the ledge as he made his way to Camille.

That was his first mistake.

Camille started to wake just in time, her eyes flashing open and to James' hand pressing against the side of the balcony's soaked carpet.

"James, no!" she screamed.

Startled, James let go. With a groan, the balcony teetered towards his head. It sunk even further beneath the pool, touching the tiled floor and slipping until the crack narrowed even further. James lunged towards Camille and pressed her against the corner of the pool, placing his hands on either side of her and ducking his head.

The balcony tilted towards them and hit the side of the pool with a soft thunk. The other side, which had already been leaning against the adjacent corner, slid further down until it was touching James' back. The light shut out completely.

After a few seconds all was still again, save for the violently lapping water and James and Camille's heaving breathing.

"You okay?" James asked finally, his voice echoing weirdly over the water.

Camille nodded slowly. "Could you…?"

"Oh." James backed away from her as much as he could. The wall was now diagonal to his back, leaving them with only about a space of eight square feet. Not a lot at all. The balcony itself was rested completely on its short side, fitting into the tiny space between the corner of the pool and the other edges. James had no idea how it all fit in here, but it did.

The crack that had been there was now a sliver of light above his head, way too small for him or Camille to wriggle through.

"Hold on a second," he said to Camille. Taking a deep breath, he ducked beneath the surface and went to investigate any other way out.

The left side didn't have a crack at all except for the tiniest space that James could fit his hand through. The right side, however, looked a little more promising: the space between the balcony and the pool's wall was a foot wide, maybe a foot and a half.

James came back up for air, wiping his face, while Camille shot him a worried look. "You were down there for a long time," she fretted.

"Singers have good lungs," he informed her. "Anyways, there's a crack at the bottom. I'll see if I can fit into it, okay? Be right back."

She went as if to protest but James had already slipped back down. Straining his eyes against the chlorine, he swam back down to the crack. It looked thinner than he remembered. James closed his eyes briefly, before using a hand to try to pull himself through the space.

As soon as his shoulders reached the crack, they lodged. James grunted, a crowd of bubbles spurting from his mouth and flurrying around his face as they struggled to find the surface. Forward or back? If he could get his shoulders through, he'd be home free. James struggled in the water, lungs burning, to pull himself through the crack, but the more he moved the tighter he seemed to snag.

Okay, bad idea, James thought, shifting directions. He tried to lift his arms to wriggle back out of the hole, but his shoulders were lodged in too tight. After a few seconds of struggling, James began to panic. His lungs ached, his eyes burned, and he had to finally admit to himself: he was stuck.

How long had he been down here? A minute, maybe more. The average adult human could hold their breath for two minutes. James didn't know how long he could hold his breath. He struggled harder.

Just as his lungs were about to burst, James felt a hand grasp the back of his shirt. He let out a startled gasp—the rest of his air—just as Camille yanked him from of the crack. Breaking the surface, James sucked in huge breaths and felt Camille pound a hand into his back. He never thought that he could love breathing so much. That's one thing he would never take for granted again.

"Are you okay?" Camille yelled in his ear over his coughing.

James simply nodded, too spent to use words. He sent her a grateful smile and caught his breath. "I'm too big," he said finally. "You want to try?"

Camille looked uneasily at the crag she'd just pulled James from. "Be right back," she said.

As she went to take a breath, James gently grabbed her shoulder. "Don't try if you don't think you can do it," he warned.

She nodded in response, her eyes dead serious for once. James gave her a reassuring smile and watched as she slipped below the water. He kept his eyes on the spot she'd disappeared, not wanting to miss any signs of distress that she might've needed his help, but the light that streamed in came from the tiniest crack above his head that he could barely see his own hands as he gripped his shoulders, chilled.

Camille came up a second later, looking exhausted. "It's my dress," she explained after catching her breath. "I tried ripping it off, but it's really hard to rip cloth when it's wet."

"Can't you, like…" James gestured towards her helplessly, not wanting to say it.

She gave him a dry look. "What? Strip? I would, but I have on a corset." At James' confused look she elaborated, "Really tight fitting bras for women in the Mid Ages."

"Oh." James flushed at her vocabulary, not knowing how to respond. After a second he continued awkwardly, "So I guess… we're stuck here."

"Guess so." Camille rubbed at her arms. "Of all days…"

James knew what she was talking about. It was crazy how a freak accident like an earthquake could combine with the freak coincidences that put them in this position: the fact that Camille was wearing a medieval wedding dress and corset, the fact that the balcony—which should've been strong enough to hold—crumbled when the earthquake struck, the fact that James had to do nothing but shift the balcony a little bit to trap them in the pool, where they could possibly drown.

"Crazy," he said, almost to himself. "So… now what?"

"We need to figure out a way out of here," Camille sighed, looking up towards their new "ceiling" as it slanted diagonally over their head. "And find the others."

James caught on immediately. "Carlos would probably be in the elevator," he said, widening his eyes. "Or at least in the lobby. What do elevators do in earthquakes? God, if I'd just gone with him—"

"Life isn't about regrets, James," Camille scolded. "It was an earthquake. A huge one at that. It doesn't matter where you are in California, you'd still be in danger."

James didn't know what to say to that. He looked at Camille and she glared back. Bizarre how she could be so adamant about something like that in a situation like this.

"Okay," he said, determination making his voice a little stronger. "You're right. Carlos wouldn't want me in here worrying like a girl. Err—no offense."

Her eyes rolled. "None taken."

James studied the balcony for any place to brace his feet without being forced to submerge. "Let's see what we can do about this."