Fic: Hidden Words
Author: 
andibeth82
Rating: G
Fandom: LOST
Characters: James/Juliet
Spoilers: None really
Word Count: 1,714
Note: James never knew she kept a diary.
There are only two words that James likes to hear at the end of the day: ‘go home.’ So when Jin walks in and tells him that he’s covering some extra shifts and its okay if he wants to leave early, James wastes no time in grabbing his keys and heading out of the security station. He would be lying to say he didn’t enjoy his job, but getting a few free hours isn’t something that happens often and so he likes to take advantage when he can.
He slides his key into the lock and steps inside the house, finding her on the couch with her legs crossed underneath her. She’s writing in something that looks like a small journal, and looks up briefly at his entrance. As he closes the door, he catches her shoving the book under a pillow and hesitates, wondering if he should say something. He thinks better of it.
“So…how was your day?”
Juliet shrugs, standing up. “Same as usual. We got a few new orders, but nothing really exciting. I think I’m actually into this mechanic stuff, though. It’s much less stressful than being a doctor.”
He chuckles, enveloping her in a hug as he rocks back and forth on his heels. “Well, that’s good, I guess. Just remember, I ain’t holdin’ you back. If you ever get an urge do some examinin’…”
Juliet shakes her head, pulling away. “I know. And I appreciate your concern, James. But we agreed when I said I was staying - no more medical stuff. Not here. Right?”
James nods once, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Right. Of course. No more medical stuff…I gotcha.”
She presses a quick kiss to his cheek before as she edges past him to the kitchen, and his eyes stray immediately to where he knows she’s hidden whatever she was writing in before he disturbed her. He tries not to think about how easy it would be to pull it out and read it. A damn invasion of privacy. He knows it’s true, and after almost losing her that night on the dock, he had vowed that he would never do anything that might make her think about leaving again.
She is happy. He knows that because he sees it in her face, but he also knows she’s harder to read than she’ll ever admit to. What if she’s writing about the feelings she doesn’t tell him? Or complaining about the things he does to annoy her? What if she’s wondering whether he’s even worth staying for?
James pushes the thought out of his mind as he strolls into the kitchen, determined to keep his curiosity at bay. “Whatcha makin’?”
“For dinner, nothing special.” Her back is to him as she shoves a hand into a bag, rummaging for something he can’t figure out. “But for dessert, I found a few of these lying around our yard when I came home.” Juliet turns, tossing him a red apple and he catches it easily.
“Apple pie? Damn, Blondie. You’re spoilin’ me.” He holds the apple up to the light, thumbing specks of dirt from its skin.
“Well, when the boys are saying that we live like we’re still on the run, don’t go complaining that I never do anything nice for you,” she teases with a grin, taking the apple back. He runs a hand through his hair and then her eyes catch him, bright and blue and clear without even a hint of masking behind them and son of a bitch he has to know.
“I’m, uh…I’m going to go check on something outside. You okay here?”
Juliet shoots him a quizzical look as she grabs a spoon from the drawer. “Sure. Just don’t go too far.”
“Won’t even leave the property,” James promises, backing towards the living room. He throws a quick glance over his shoulder, noting how she’s still hunched over the sink, obviously intent on whatever she’s doing and not the least bit interested in watching him.
He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help it. Before he can stop himself, he finds his hands easily sliding the diary out from under the pillow, his con man fingers expertly flipping through the pages until he finds the most recent entry.
“…and sometimes, there are days when I’m not quite sure what I’m doing or where I’ll end up. But knowing James is there makes it easier. I’m glad he’s here with me. I’m glad he asked me to stay. I hope one day I can tell him that I love him.”
He fingers the tip of the page, feeling a smile edge onto his face while his eyes dart back and forth over the last sentence. Closing the book, he shoves it back into hiding and pretends to be rifling through some old reports when her footsteps come up behind him.
“I thought you were checking on something outside,” she says, frowning slightly. He swears her eyes wander to the couch, and he pretends to be clueless about why she would care.
“Yeah, sorry…I, uh, got distracted. These papers, you know…” He throws the pile to the floor, suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to tackle her to the ground, to kiss her for hours on end, to tell her that he does love her as much as she’s learning to love him. Its a few moments before he realizes he’s been standing unmoving in the same spot while she watches.
“James?” She reaches out to touch the side of his face, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“What’s going on?”
He struggles to keep the goofy smile at bay, knowing that even if he has to wait another full year to hear the actual words come out of her mouth, he can be content. He suddenly realizes that for the first time in his life, nothing is wrong. Everything is, in a way he never expected, just right.
“I like spendin’ time with you. Wanted you to know that.” He tosses her a smile and she bites her lip, clearly not knowing quite how to take the compliment.
“Well, that makes two of us.” Juliet takes his hand in hers, wrapping her fingers around his palm and they’re both silent for a moment before she speaks again.
“Do you want to sit for awhile? I have to wait for the oven to heat up, anyway.”
The words are barely out of her mouth before he’s pulling her down onto the couch in answer, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and feeling the weight of her body against his. She lets her head fall back against his chest, her fingers playing with the frayed fabric of her shirt.
“Thank you,” she says suddenly, and he’s not exactly sure if he’s supposed to know what she’s thanking him for, if it’s an open invitation to admit that he’s read her private words or if she’s just realizing the same thing he is at the exact same moment. He quickly decides that it doesn’t really matter.
“You’re welcome.”
andibeth82
Rating: G
Fandom: LOST
Characters: James/Juliet
Spoilers: None really
Word Count: 1,714
Note: James never knew she kept a diary.
There are only two words that James likes to hear at the end of the day: ‘go home.’ So when Jin walks in and tells him that he’s covering some extra shifts and its okay if he wants to leave early, James wastes no time in grabbing his keys and heading out of the security station. He would be lying to say he didn’t enjoy his job, but getting a few free hours isn’t something that happens often and so he likes to take advantage when he can.
He slides his key into the lock and steps inside the house, finding her on the couch with her legs crossed underneath her. She’s writing in something that looks like a small journal, and looks up briefly at his entrance. As he closes the door, he catches her shoving the book under a pillow and hesitates, wondering if he should say something. He thinks better of it.
“So…how was your day?”
Juliet shrugs, standing up. “Same as usual. We got a few new orders, but nothing really exciting. I think I’m actually into this mechanic stuff, though. It’s much less stressful than being a doctor.”
He chuckles, enveloping her in a hug as he rocks back and forth on his heels. “Well, that’s good, I guess. Just remember, I ain’t holdin’ you back. If you ever get an urge do some examinin’…”
Juliet shakes her head, pulling away. “I know. And I appreciate your concern, James. But we agreed when I said I was staying - no more medical stuff. Not here. Right?”
James nods once, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Right. Of course. No more medical stuff…I gotcha.”
She presses a quick kiss to his cheek before as she edges past him to the kitchen, and his eyes stray immediately to where he knows she’s hidden whatever she was writing in before he disturbed her. He tries not to think about how easy it would be to pull it out and read it. A damn invasion of privacy. He knows it’s true, and after almost losing her that night on the dock, he had vowed that he would never do anything that might make her think about leaving again.
She is happy. He knows that because he sees it in her face, but he also knows she’s harder to read than she’ll ever admit to. What if she’s writing about the feelings she doesn’t tell him? Or complaining about the things he does to annoy her? What if she’s wondering whether he’s even worth staying for?
James pushes the thought out of his mind as he strolls into the kitchen, determined to keep his curiosity at bay. “Whatcha makin’?”
“For dinner, nothing special.” Her back is to him as she shoves a hand into a bag, rummaging for something he can’t figure out. “But for dessert, I found a few of these lying around our yard when I came home.” Juliet turns, tossing him a red apple and he catches it easily.
“Apple pie? Damn, Blondie. You’re spoilin’ me.” He holds the apple up to the light, thumbing specks of dirt from its skin.
“Well, when the boys are saying that we live like we’re still on the run, don’t go complaining that I never do anything nice for you,” she teases with a grin, taking the apple back. He runs a hand through his hair and then her eyes catch him, bright and blue and clear without even a hint of masking behind them and son of a bitch he has to know.
“I’m, uh…I’m going to go check on something outside. You okay here?”
Juliet shoots him a quizzical look as she grabs a spoon from the drawer. “Sure. Just don’t go too far.”
“Won’t even leave the property,” James promises, backing towards the living room. He throws a quick glance over his shoulder, noting how she’s still hunched over the sink, obviously intent on whatever she’s doing and not the least bit interested in watching him.
He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help it. Before he can stop himself, he finds his hands easily sliding the diary out from under the pillow, his con man fingers expertly flipping through the pages until he finds the most recent entry.
“…and sometimes, there are days when I’m not quite sure what I’m doing or where I’ll end up. But knowing James is there makes it easier. I’m glad he’s here with me. I’m glad he asked me to stay. I hope one day I can tell him that I love him.”
He fingers the tip of the page, feeling a smile edge onto his face while his eyes dart back and forth over the last sentence. Closing the book, he shoves it back into hiding and pretends to be rifling through some old reports when her footsteps come up behind him.
“I thought you were checking on something outside,” she says, frowning slightly. He swears her eyes wander to the couch, and he pretends to be clueless about why she would care.
“Yeah, sorry…I, uh, got distracted. These papers, you know…” He throws the pile to the floor, suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to tackle her to the ground, to kiss her for hours on end, to tell her that he does love her as much as she’s learning to love him. Its a few moments before he realizes he’s been standing unmoving in the same spot while she watches.
“James?” She reaches out to touch the side of his face, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“What’s going on?”
He struggles to keep the goofy smile at bay, knowing that even if he has to wait another full year to hear the actual words come out of her mouth, he can be content. He suddenly realizes that for the first time in his life, nothing is wrong. Everything is, in a way he never expected, just right.
“I like spendin’ time with you. Wanted you to know that.” He tosses her a smile and she bites her lip, clearly not knowing quite how to take the compliment.
“Well, that makes two of us.” Juliet takes his hand in hers, wrapping her fingers around his palm and they’re both silent for a moment before she speaks again.
“Do you want to sit for awhile? I have to wait for the oven to heat up, anyway.”
The words are barely out of her mouth before he’s pulling her down onto the couch in answer, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and feeling the weight of her body against his. She lets her head fall back against his chest, her fingers playing with the frayed fabric of her shirt.
“Thank you,” she says suddenly, and he’s not exactly sure if he’s supposed to know what she’s thanking him for, if it’s an open invitation to admit that he’s read her private words or if she’s just realizing the same thing he is at the exact same moment. He quickly decides that it doesn’t really matter.
“You’re welcome.”