(no subject)
Title: Color Inside The Lines (And Other Rules Juliet Breaks)
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Juliet, Jack, Kate. Jack/Juliet, Jack/Kate.
Word Count: 1,048
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Up to 4.10 - Something Nice Back Home
Summary: She lives in a hotel, and when she leaves in the mornings she gets a look from the man at the front desk as he leaves after the night shift, that nod and the 'i know what you did last night' and she supposes he probably thinks she's some cheap whore. Except it's the same man every night and he should've figured this out already.
wake up and smell the coffee
She likes to watch the sunlight stream through the windows, filtered by the thin cream curtains that billow slightly with the breeze. She doesn’t remember leaving the window open a crack last night but finds herself grateful for the fresh air.
It’s too late to be in bed on a nice day. Burning daylight, as some would say, but every conscious effort to get up has been thwarted by her own tired body. It may be too nice outside, but it’s also too nice in here, buried under fresh sheets, and there’s an arm that rests against her side, fingers splayed across bare skin and soft cotton, an arm belonging to a man who would not be in bed if he had any idea what time it was.
He has a schedule. He likes to stick to that schedule. She doesn’t much care for it, yet another way for him to exert control.
So she tries not to move too much, lets the minutes tick away, and the illusion that this can last hang in her mind for just awhile longer.
The phone rings. This time, unlike last time when she’d switched the ringer off, literally and metaphorically turning the alarm off, she lets it ring. Jack stirs on the second ring. His rolls onto his side, his long fingers moving from her skin to the bedside table, groping blindly for the phone.
“Hello?”
Juliet takes a breath. “Mr. Shephard, you never responded to our first wake up call fifteen minutes ago. We just wanted to make sure you were awake.”
He sits up, looks at the clock for a moment, lets his eyes focus. “Yeah, I guess I slept through it. Thanks for checking.” He sets the phone back in the receiver and turns to look at her, “Did you hear it?”
“No,” she lies, with a gentle shake of her head, still lying against the pillows, “No, I didn’t.”
Jack shakes his head, mutters something about late nights, and slips out of bed, on his way into the shower probably, and she just lays there, in a bed that isn’t hers, watching the man that is only sometimes hers leave, and the illusion breaks.
---
strike while the iron is hot
Timing is everything.
In her head, her timing is what doomed this relationship. She met him two months after he crashed. She came back six months after he did. It’s always after. She’s always too late.
They’re still engaged. Jack and Kate. And that makes her a bad person, a home wrecker perhaps, except there’s no home for her to wreck. They haven’t lived together in a month. One month and she doesn’t know where he goes when he isn’t with her. She doesn’t ask and he probably wouldn’t tell her anyways.
So she lives in a hotel, and when she leaves in the mornings she gets looks from the man at the front desk as he leaves after the night shift, that nod and the ‘i know what you did last night’ and she supposes he probably thinks she’s some cheap whore. Except it’s the same man every night and he should’ve figured this out by now.
She doesn’t know which man she’s talking about anymore.
---
watch your step and wipe your feet
Juliet never thought she’d be the kind of woman who would hide.
She dashes out of the grocery store, into the rain, with no umbrella and no regrets about forgetting one. The icy rain pricks at her skin and she welcomes it. Her feet splash among the puddles, water and mud lapping at her ankles, and she slides into the safety of her car.
It’s then that she can breathe. Eyes closed and she doesn’t even know why she’s running.
A hand taps at her window, a hollow sound, and she has no choice but to roll down the window.
“Juliet?” Kate’s shirt sticks to her skin and Juliet thinks it probably wasn’t her best move to wear white when it’s fifty degrees and pouring down rain.
She doesn’t know why it’s phrased as a question. It’s not like she can say no.
“I thought...” her eyes squint, water dripping down out of her hair and into her face, droplets catching on the tips of her lashes, like diamonds. “What are you doing here?”
And then the gravity of this hits her. Kate didn’t follow her because of Jack.
She followed her because she thought she was still on the island.
---
don’t cause a scene
“Where does she think you go?” They’re at dinner. A necessity, not a date, she makes it clear in her mind.
He moves his food with his fork, but it doesn’t touch his lips. “She doesn’t ask.” He half-smiles, something funny in his head she thinks, and then shrugs, the smile disappearing just as fast as it had appeared. “I don’t think she cares.”
“Then why are you with her?”
She knows he doesn’t have an answer to that. He has the same series of gestures that he moves through whenever she asks things like this. He doesn’t like to talk about Kate around her. She is where he goes to forget. Because what Jack wants and what he can deal with, what he will deal with, are quite often completely different things.
Juliet shakes her head, mostly to herself. “That’s what I thought.”
They eat in silence, and when his phone rings she already knows who it is.
“I’ll be right there.”
Of course he will. He can’t help himself.
She sobs in the booth as she listens to his car drive off.
---
speak only if spoken to
Two days later, when he’s knocking at the door, she isn’t surprised. No, she’s ready. She’s ready for this.
“Can I come in?” She hasn’t opened the door all the way, keeping her body in between the edge of the door and the frame on purpose.
“No, Jack.” It takes all of her nerve to swallow that lump in her throat. “No, you can’t.”
She almost shuts her fingers in the door, and she doesn’t wait to hear his protest. She doesn’t imagine that she’d hear any.
It’s both the hardest and the easiest thing she’s ever done.
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Juliet, Jack, Kate. Jack/Juliet, Jack/Kate.
Word Count: 1,048
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Up to 4.10 - Something Nice Back Home
Summary: She lives in a hotel, and when she leaves in the mornings she gets a look from the man at the front desk as he leaves after the night shift, that nod and the 'i know what you did last night' and she supposes he probably thinks she's some cheap whore. Except it's the same man every night and he should've figured this out already.
wake up and smell the coffee
She likes to watch the sunlight stream through the windows, filtered by the thin cream curtains that billow slightly with the breeze. She doesn’t remember leaving the window open a crack last night but finds herself grateful for the fresh air.
It’s too late to be in bed on a nice day. Burning daylight, as some would say, but every conscious effort to get up has been thwarted by her own tired body. It may be too nice outside, but it’s also too nice in here, buried under fresh sheets, and there’s an arm that rests against her side, fingers splayed across bare skin and soft cotton, an arm belonging to a man who would not be in bed if he had any idea what time it was.
He has a schedule. He likes to stick to that schedule. She doesn’t much care for it, yet another way for him to exert control.
So she tries not to move too much, lets the minutes tick away, and the illusion that this can last hang in her mind for just awhile longer.
The phone rings. This time, unlike last time when she’d switched the ringer off, literally and metaphorically turning the alarm off, she lets it ring. Jack stirs on the second ring. His rolls onto his side, his long fingers moving from her skin to the bedside table, groping blindly for the phone.
“Hello?”
Juliet takes a breath. “Mr. Shephard, you never responded to our first wake up call fifteen minutes ago. We just wanted to make sure you were awake.”
He sits up, looks at the clock for a moment, lets his eyes focus. “Yeah, I guess I slept through it. Thanks for checking.” He sets the phone back in the receiver and turns to look at her, “Did you hear it?”
“No,” she lies, with a gentle shake of her head, still lying against the pillows, “No, I didn’t.”
Jack shakes his head, mutters something about late nights, and slips out of bed, on his way into the shower probably, and she just lays there, in a bed that isn’t hers, watching the man that is only sometimes hers leave, and the illusion breaks.
---
strike while the iron is hot
Timing is everything.
In her head, her timing is what doomed this relationship. She met him two months after he crashed. She came back six months after he did. It’s always after. She’s always too late.
They’re still engaged. Jack and Kate. And that makes her a bad person, a home wrecker perhaps, except there’s no home for her to wreck. They haven’t lived together in a month. One month and she doesn’t know where he goes when he isn’t with her. She doesn’t ask and he probably wouldn’t tell her anyways.
So she lives in a hotel, and when she leaves in the mornings she gets looks from the man at the front desk as he leaves after the night shift, that nod and the ‘i know what you did last night’ and she supposes he probably thinks she’s some cheap whore. Except it’s the same man every night and he should’ve figured this out by now.
She doesn’t know which man she’s talking about anymore.
---
watch your step and wipe your feet
Juliet never thought she’d be the kind of woman who would hide.
She dashes out of the grocery store, into the rain, with no umbrella and no regrets about forgetting one. The icy rain pricks at her skin and she welcomes it. Her feet splash among the puddles, water and mud lapping at her ankles, and she slides into the safety of her car.
It’s then that she can breathe. Eyes closed and she doesn’t even know why she’s running.
A hand taps at her window, a hollow sound, and she has no choice but to roll down the window.
“Juliet?” Kate’s shirt sticks to her skin and Juliet thinks it probably wasn’t her best move to wear white when it’s fifty degrees and pouring down rain.
She doesn’t know why it’s phrased as a question. It’s not like she can say no.
“I thought...” her eyes squint, water dripping down out of her hair and into her face, droplets catching on the tips of her lashes, like diamonds. “What are you doing here?”
And then the gravity of this hits her. Kate didn’t follow her because of Jack.
She followed her because she thought she was still on the island.
---
don’t cause a scene
“Where does she think you go?” They’re at dinner. A necessity, not a date, she makes it clear in her mind.
He moves his food with his fork, but it doesn’t touch his lips. “She doesn’t ask.” He half-smiles, something funny in his head she thinks, and then shrugs, the smile disappearing just as fast as it had appeared. “I don’t think she cares.”
“Then why are you with her?”
She knows he doesn’t have an answer to that. He has the same series of gestures that he moves through whenever she asks things like this. He doesn’t like to talk about Kate around her. She is where he goes to forget. Because what Jack wants and what he can deal with, what he will deal with, are quite often completely different things.
Juliet shakes her head, mostly to herself. “That’s what I thought.”
They eat in silence, and when his phone rings she already knows who it is.
“I’ll be right there.”
Of course he will. He can’t help himself.
She sobs in the booth as she listens to his car drive off.
---
speak only if spoken to
Two days later, when he’s knocking at the door, she isn’t surprised. No, she’s ready. She’s ready for this.
“Can I come in?” She hasn’t opened the door all the way, keeping her body in between the edge of the door and the frame on purpose.
“No, Jack.” It takes all of her nerve to swallow that lump in her throat. “No, you can’t.”
She almost shuts her fingers in the door, and she doesn’t wait to hear his protest. She doesn’t imagine that she’d hear any.
It’s both the hardest and the easiest thing she’s ever done.