Five

A/N: I had this idea a long, long time ago and am only now getting around to putting it up. Hope you enjoy!

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Night One

Juliet awoke to the muted, whirring sound of a lawnmower in the distance. It entered into her dreams first, giving her the impression she was using one on grass that just kept growing back. But before her dream could continue into anything more than vague smoke, it began to fade. She felt hardness surrounding her, and slowly, she came back into her body.

Her hip ached from where she was lying on the floor. One of her legs was shoved beneath the couch, but the other one…

Juliet tightened. Her leg and her upper body didn't ache, because what they were lying on was soft and warm.

Not a what, though. A who.

She squinted her eyes open against harsh sunlight. They felt crusted over and sore, and she immediately slammed them back down.

Her head hurt. Oh god, everything hurt.

Trying again, she steadied herself before forcing her blurry vision to come into focus. Her hand swept out in front of her, trying to understand who she was lying on. She brushed the denim of jeans first, soft and worn against her fingers, and then when she brought them back to her face to try to rub away the ache in her eyes, she skimmed across warm, bare flesh.

She understood now. She was lying on someone's chest. Their heart beat rhythmically beneath her ear, and their steady breathing gave no indication they were yet awake.

It wasn't until she shifted, trying to move her head so she wasn't looking down at their legs and could try to see their face, that they stirred.

Or rather, groaned. And she knew that deep groan anywhere.

She hefted herself into an upright position on one hand and craned her neck, hissing at the crick she'd earned as a souvenir from her night on the living room floor. Just as she suspected, she was lying on a previously-sleeping James.

He blinked up at her as she gawked at him, frowning. "Time is it?" he croaked, and Juliet's mouth fell open. He seemed completely unperturbed to have found her sleeping on him.

Juliet sat up further, twisting her neck to the side, trying to reawaken her aching muscle. "I don't know…" she whispered, and then cleared her throat to try to regain her voice back.

James huffed an acknowledgement, and then tried to sit up himself. He grumbled under his breath, something Juliet couldn't hear.

When she looked around the room, she saw the chaotic remnants of the night before. Beer cans and empty wine bottles, throw pillows on the floor and furniture askew. Playing cards on the coffee table, leftover from a game of poker Juliet barely remembered participating in. But why hadn't they gone to their own beds? She saw no sign of Miles and Jin, but they'd definitely been there last night, too.

"What happened?" she asked after a few moments. She had to break up the silence somehow. James wasn't moving to stand; his eyes were taking in the room, before swiveling back to her to stare. Didn't he want to know how they'd gotten here? she thought.

He shrugged, nonplussed. "Drinkin', I reckon," he teased, tossing a smirk her way.

She ignored him. "I know that. I meant –" she gestured between them, "This."

Something flickered to life in his eyes, something Juliet couldn't pinpoint. He opened his mouth to speak, then faltered for a moment, before finally saying, "You mean the best sleep I've had since bein' in Dharmaville?"

Even the Sahara desert wasn't as dry as the inside of her mouth. The way his eyes combed over her, running wild and unabashed - it made her almost queasy with butterflies as they tried to flap their way out of her esophagus.

They'd only been here a little over a month, five weeks to be exact. They'd finally settled into a routine, and their last dejected "search" had been only a week ago. They finally understood this wasn't going to happen quickly, if ever. They'd need patience, and part of finding that patience meant finding a way to blend in, get jobs, make friends. It meant slipping into monotony until someone came along to rescue them, instead.

She didn't realize he hadn't been sleeping, though. And he couldn't possibly mean what she thought he might be implying - that she'd had anything to do with him finally sleeping well. It would be absurd.

"I hear drinking helps with that. Sleeping, that is," she finally offered, after the resounding silence became too heavy to shoulder. She wanted to get up, go take a scalding hot shower. But then…

The scent of him still lingered in her nose. She wasn't wholly certain she wanted to lose that, either.

"So does the comp'ny," he murmured. It was a challenge, the way he looked at her - a test. One she felt desperate to pass. She always felt triumphant when she was able to match his wit stroke for stroke. This flirty banter was no different - it was all meaningless, but she couldn't help but think he tolerated her just a little bit more when she didn't back down.

"Maybe we should do it again sometime." Her tone was dry, sharp even, but the resounding chuckle he tutted was confirmation she'd said the right thing.

She pulled herself up to her knees before gripping the couch to help her stand. Though, she wasn't sure if it was the hangover making it hard not to wobble on her own two feet.

James was making no effort to move from his position on the floor. Instead, he watched her, some kind of fascination making his eyes glitter with mischief.

"Maybe we should," he agreed, and pursed his lips in a charming, albeit sarcastic grin. Her heart stuttered inside her chest. This thing growing between them… it was like a virus. Every look, every smile, was feeding it, causing it to multiply and expand. She wasn't even sure she recognized it that night on the dock, their first night here. But now? There was no denying the crush that was eating away at her from the inside out. It was very much like a sickness, and Juliet was desperate to be cured of it.

His flirting was innocent enough, Juliet knew that. They were enemies once and there was no getting over that mountain. No matter the words he used to get a rise out of her, there was no way he saw her as anything other than an acquaintance here in their shared hell. He just… liked to press her buttons, she guessed.

She swallowed and breathed in deeply before finally taking in the rest of the chaos of the house. Anything to tear her eyes away from his. "How'd we get on the floor, anyway?"

James shrugged and finally followed her lead, using the coffee table to stand up from the ground. He looked far less wobbly and hungover than she'd expected him to be. Odd. "I dunno. I don't even remember fallin' asleep." He looked around the room curiously, as if putting the mental puzzle pieces together in his head. "Guess we fell asleep on the couch. Rolled onto the floor." A statement, not a question.

"And falling off didn't wake us up?" she practically whispered, finding this whole predicament shocking and unreal. She pressed a hand to her clammy forehead. She really needed a shower.

"Guess not."

Juliet nodded, accepting the fact that he wasn't any more aware about their night than she was. When he turned to look at her, she expected to find shame lingering in his expression, or at the very least, regret. She found none.

"Well, um… I'm… gonna go." She pointed her thumb over her shoulder, excusing herself to the bathroom. James shifted his weight uncomfortably. He opened his mouth like he was going to say more, but snapped it shut with a tight grimace.

"See ya later then."

And that was that. She was finally excused from the tension bubbling between them like tar.

Juliet took a scalding hot shower; gently, perhaps even reverently, scrubbing all the places he'd touched her.