Fic: To Want You
Author: 
andibeth82
Rating: G
Fandom: LOST
Characters: James/Juliet
Spoilers: General Season 5
Word Count: 1,470
Note: Original prompt was from a song called "You and Me" by Ryan Star (which, if you've never heard of it, look it up on YouTube or download it - fantastic artist, fantastic voice and this song just screams S/J.) James doesn't know how much he has to offer Juliet.
It’s only been twenty minutes, but he already wants to leave.
He didn’t even want to go to this party in this first place - for whatever reason, he wasn’t feeling particularly sociable. But Juliet had pressured him, had said she really wanted to go and so he had conceded, mostly to make her happy. He could handle small talk, he decided on the walk over. And he had to admit he was good at shooting the breeze and pretending to be interested even when he had no idea what people were talking about.
But that was before he had walked into the house, before she had gotten swept up in a rush of people all of whom were apparently keen on talking to the newest attractive recruit in Dharmaville (who, he likes to note with pride, also happened to be the most gifted woman mechanic to set foot in the motor pool in a long time.)
Sometimes when he’s bored, he finds himself making a timeline in his head, trying to remember exactly when it all started. The cages - no, not the cages, he still was with Kate then. But there was definitely something that came out of that first meeting, the way she looked at him with that no-nonsense glare and the way she called him by his given name - the first time in his life someone had done so without talking down to him.
He doesn’t even know if it started at the beach - she spent so much time with Jack that he barely saw her unless it was while they were running around and trying not to get killed. But there were some nights, he remembers, nights when she would be sitting alone by the water, nights that he would watch from the safety of his tent and wonder why she was alone, what she was thinking about, and if there was anything he should say to her. Not that he ever did.
And then the time travel happened. And somewhere between jumping from 1950 and 2004, James found that he needed the woman with the no-nonsense glare, the one whose banter he used to find annoying, the one who could wield a rifle with so much ease, it was as if she’d been born to handle firearms. In a band of friends that included a slightly insane physicist, a sarcastic medium, an annoying redhead and an estranged husband who barely spoke English, he found that things didn’t seem so bad as long as he had her to talk to.
And then somewhere between that and, well, now, the line of friendship blurred even further, delving into something that James doesn’t even really know - something where they hug each other a little longer and smile at each other a little bigger. He suspects sometimes that she really doesn’t know what this something is either, and at the end of the day, when they’re returning to separate houses and separate lives, he figures it doesn’t really matter anyway.
James watches now from a distance as she talks animatedly with a workman he knows only as Kevin. As he tries to distract himself from noting her every move, he sees her break out into a laugh, sees her lean slightly into the other man’s embrace and damn if he shouldn’t feel jealous but something is welling up inside of him, an intense feeling he knows all too well. He quickly downs the rest of his beer and turns abruptly, making a beeline towards the door. The cool air is a welcome change from the hot and stuffy interior of the house and he slumps against the railing of the porch, trying to work logic into his alcohol-induced brain.
All these damn Dharma folk. He crushes his empty beer can and tosses it forcefully onto the grass. What did they have that he didn’t have? Sure, they had stable lives, maybe even families off the Island. Probably more money, too, considering they had worked here a lot longer.
And they were probably happier. James bites his lip, wondering if any of them had pasts that involved murdered parents, rap sheets or unintentionally killed men before deducing they probably don’t. These hippies walked around with rifles and tough attitudes, but James knows from experience that it’s mostly an act. To think they were actually capable of being a person as horrible as he knew he once was seems almost laughable.
He’s not sure how long he’s outside, but he knows that when he hears the door open - and he knows it’s her without even turning around - he’s going to have to answer for something.
“Are you okay?” She walks up slowly behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glances down at the curve of her fingers wrapped around his skin and sighs.
“I’m okay.”
Juliet edges next to him, leaning against the porch. “You left the party,” she continues rather pointedly, although the tone of her words exude more gentleness than accusation.
“Yeah. Guess I did.” He presses his hands against the railing, staring out into the tree line and wondering when the hell he started to care so damn much. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her looking at him with concern and dammit, why does he always end up in situations where he feels he has to bite his tongue in order not to say something stupid?
“Are you sure nothing is wrong?”
No, I’m not sure, he thinks to himself, still refusing to meet her gaze. I’m not sure because you’re inside flirtin’ with some damn Dharma guy who’s got more to give than I’ll ever be able to show you, who’s probably better off for you anyway, and I can’t compete with these people even if I’m the damn head of security but that doesn’t stop me from carin’ about you and wonderin’ if you could ever accept that.
He doesn’t say a word out loud, but he wonders if they’ve developed some sort of psychic bond because she laces her fingers into his and turns her eyes towards the barracks, almost as if she understands the frustration and pain that he can’t articulate.
“I’m not entirely stupid,” Juliet says quietly after a bout of silence, her gaze unmoving. “I know that you saw something you weren’t happy with in there. And I know you didn’t want to come tonight in the first place…although it means a lot to me that you pretended to be interested.”
He doesn’t really know how to respond, because as much as he wants to admit that she’s right, it seems like too simple an answer. To his relief, she continues without giving him the option of adding his thoughts.
“What I don’t understand, though, is why the person I want to spend the most time with tonight is having himself a pity party outside.”
He looks up sharply, finally meeting her eyes, honest and bright and devoid of any anger or sadness and he knows that he can’t just pretend he doesn’t care anymore. If she could admit that she would rather be with him than all those people in there who were obviously better, the least he could do is admit that he feels the same way.
“I guess…” James trails off, shaking his head. “I just thought you wouldn’t want me.”
Juliet reaches for his face, her fingers brushing against the slight amount of stubble covering his chin. “What makes you think I wouldn’t?”
Her eyes are full of tears that are threatening to fall, and he knows that maybe he should be respectful of her emotions but all he can feel right now is the overwhelming relief that despite all this, despite his past and the fact he can’t offer her anything except an occasional reassuring hug, she really does want him. He meets her lips without hesitation, raking his fingers through messy waves of hair, feeling the tears fall from her eyes and onto his face. He doesn’t care who sees them, he doesn’t even care if he gets written up for out-of-control conduct at a social gathering. All he cares about is what he knows he’s always cared about - her.
One hand runs down the curve of his throat and then she’s breaking the kiss, her hand pressed against his chest. Her eyes are still bright with tears, but there’s a look in them that’s inviting and warm and more alive than he’s ever seen.
“Take me home,” she says quietly before leaning in to kiss him again and for some reason he can’t place, he knows tonight will be their last night of sleeping in separate houses. His mouth against hers in silent answer, he scoops her up in his arms and descends down the porch, leaving the party behind.
andibeth82
Rating: G
Fandom: LOST
Characters: James/Juliet
Spoilers: General Season 5
Word Count: 1,470
Note: Original prompt was from a song called "You and Me" by Ryan Star (which, if you've never heard of it, look it up on YouTube or download it - fantastic artist, fantastic voice and this song just screams S/J.) James doesn't know how much he has to offer Juliet.
It’s only been twenty minutes, but he already wants to leave.
He didn’t even want to go to this party in this first place - for whatever reason, he wasn’t feeling particularly sociable. But Juliet had pressured him, had said she really wanted to go and so he had conceded, mostly to make her happy. He could handle small talk, he decided on the walk over. And he had to admit he was good at shooting the breeze and pretending to be interested even when he had no idea what people were talking about.
But that was before he had walked into the house, before she had gotten swept up in a rush of people all of whom were apparently keen on talking to the newest attractive recruit in Dharmaville (who, he likes to note with pride, also happened to be the most gifted woman mechanic to set foot in the motor pool in a long time.)
Sometimes when he’s bored, he finds himself making a timeline in his head, trying to remember exactly when it all started. The cages - no, not the cages, he still was with Kate then. But there was definitely something that came out of that first meeting, the way she looked at him with that no-nonsense glare and the way she called him by his given name - the first time in his life someone had done so without talking down to him.
He doesn’t even know if it started at the beach - she spent so much time with Jack that he barely saw her unless it was while they were running around and trying not to get killed. But there were some nights, he remembers, nights when she would be sitting alone by the water, nights that he would watch from the safety of his tent and wonder why she was alone, what she was thinking about, and if there was anything he should say to her. Not that he ever did.
And then the time travel happened. And somewhere between jumping from 1950 and 2004, James found that he needed the woman with the no-nonsense glare, the one whose banter he used to find annoying, the one who could wield a rifle with so much ease, it was as if she’d been born to handle firearms. In a band of friends that included a slightly insane physicist, a sarcastic medium, an annoying redhead and an estranged husband who barely spoke English, he found that things didn’t seem so bad as long as he had her to talk to.
And then somewhere between that and, well, now, the line of friendship blurred even further, delving into something that James doesn’t even really know - something where they hug each other a little longer and smile at each other a little bigger. He suspects sometimes that she really doesn’t know what this something is either, and at the end of the day, when they’re returning to separate houses and separate lives, he figures it doesn’t really matter anyway.
James watches now from a distance as she talks animatedly with a workman he knows only as Kevin. As he tries to distract himself from noting her every move, he sees her break out into a laugh, sees her lean slightly into the other man’s embrace and damn if he shouldn’t feel jealous but something is welling up inside of him, an intense feeling he knows all too well. He quickly downs the rest of his beer and turns abruptly, making a beeline towards the door. The cool air is a welcome change from the hot and stuffy interior of the house and he slumps against the railing of the porch, trying to work logic into his alcohol-induced brain.
All these damn Dharma folk. He crushes his empty beer can and tosses it forcefully onto the grass. What did they have that he didn’t have? Sure, they had stable lives, maybe even families off the Island. Probably more money, too, considering they had worked here a lot longer.
And they were probably happier. James bites his lip, wondering if any of them had pasts that involved murdered parents, rap sheets or unintentionally killed men before deducing they probably don’t. These hippies walked around with rifles and tough attitudes, but James knows from experience that it’s mostly an act. To think they were actually capable of being a person as horrible as he knew he once was seems almost laughable.
He’s not sure how long he’s outside, but he knows that when he hears the door open - and he knows it’s her without even turning around - he’s going to have to answer for something.
“Are you okay?” She walks up slowly behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He glances down at the curve of her fingers wrapped around his skin and sighs.
“I’m okay.”
Juliet edges next to him, leaning against the porch. “You left the party,” she continues rather pointedly, although the tone of her words exude more gentleness than accusation.
“Yeah. Guess I did.” He presses his hands against the railing, staring out into the tree line and wondering when the hell he started to care so damn much. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her looking at him with concern and dammit, why does he always end up in situations where he feels he has to bite his tongue in order not to say something stupid?
“Are you sure nothing is wrong?”
No, I’m not sure, he thinks to himself, still refusing to meet her gaze. I’m not sure because you’re inside flirtin’ with some damn Dharma guy who’s got more to give than I’ll ever be able to show you, who’s probably better off for you anyway, and I can’t compete with these people even if I’m the damn head of security but that doesn’t stop me from carin’ about you and wonderin’ if you could ever accept that.
He doesn’t say a word out loud, but he wonders if they’ve developed some sort of psychic bond because she laces her fingers into his and turns her eyes towards the barracks, almost as if she understands the frustration and pain that he can’t articulate.
“I’m not entirely stupid,” Juliet says quietly after a bout of silence, her gaze unmoving. “I know that you saw something you weren’t happy with in there. And I know you didn’t want to come tonight in the first place…although it means a lot to me that you pretended to be interested.”
He doesn’t really know how to respond, because as much as he wants to admit that she’s right, it seems like too simple an answer. To his relief, she continues without giving him the option of adding his thoughts.
“What I don’t understand, though, is why the person I want to spend the most time with tonight is having himself a pity party outside.”
He looks up sharply, finally meeting her eyes, honest and bright and devoid of any anger or sadness and he knows that he can’t just pretend he doesn’t care anymore. If she could admit that she would rather be with him than all those people in there who were obviously better, the least he could do is admit that he feels the same way.
“I guess…” James trails off, shaking his head. “I just thought you wouldn’t want me.”
Juliet reaches for his face, her fingers brushing against the slight amount of stubble covering his chin. “What makes you think I wouldn’t?”
Her eyes are full of tears that are threatening to fall, and he knows that maybe he should be respectful of her emotions but all he can feel right now is the overwhelming relief that despite all this, despite his past and the fact he can’t offer her anything except an occasional reassuring hug, she really does want him. He meets her lips without hesitation, raking his fingers through messy waves of hair, feeling the tears fall from her eyes and onto his face. He doesn’t care who sees them, he doesn’t even care if he gets written up for out-of-control conduct at a social gathering. All he cares about is what he knows he’s always cared about - her.
One hand runs down the curve of his throat and then she’s breaking the kiss, her hand pressed against his chest. Her eyes are still bright with tears, but there’s a look in them that’s inviting and warm and more alive than he’s ever seen.
“Take me home,” she says quietly before leaning in to kiss him again and for some reason he can’t place, he knows tonight will be their last night of sleeping in separate houses. His mouth against hers in silent answer, he scoops her up in his arms and descends down the porch, leaving the party behind.