Adrenaline
Title: Adrenaline
Pairing: Jack/Juliet
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: get_jackoff, bedroom
Spoilers: Vague references to S3 up through 3x05 “The Cost of Living” but nothing major.
Genre: Futurefic
Disclaimer: Not Mine!
Dedication: To laura4lad, who is my Jacket partner-in-crime. :)
Juliet stares at his fingers as he carefully and expertly maneuvers the shiny metal instruments, so easily and quickly that it seems like second nature. The hard part of the surgery, the time of harried orders and quick problem-solving, is over, but her pulse is still racing and as she watches him begin to slide the black stitches in, her mind rushes forward to what will happen when he finishes. She knows she should be watching what she's doing, but even covered in white latex and bright red blood, she can't keep her eyes off of his hands. Hands that she longed to feel all over her body, hands that knew how and where to touch, hands that were strong and rough and masculine but deft and delicate enough to sew the tiny row of sutures that he is starting in on now. The look on his face is pure concentration and after a moment of brief admiration, she visibly shakes herself from it, jarring her thoughts back to the task at hand, and looks down to the open body cavity in front of them.
The surgeries are happening more often now; sometimes it seems like no one in their community got sick until there was a big-time doctor here to take care of them. Jack has his hands full and Juliet secretly thrills every time someone shows up at their doorstep with a problem. She's learned more from Jack than she has from anyone else before, and he's still learning himself. With spinal surgery being his main area of expertise, practicing the large amount of general medicine he's been doing since he came to their town has him poring over medical texts late into the night, refreshing his memory and gathering new information. She studies with him, and in many ways, has become more proficient than he in diagnosing what is ailing their neighbors.
He doesn't seem to be bothered by that, though she had expected him to be. Perhaps if she were someone else, his pride might be injured, but on days when she comes through with the right information or the right help, he only looks on her with admiration and, if she's not mistaken, relief. Those days always lead to nights that are amazing. As good as she is at reading people, it took her a few times of Jack passionately making love to her for her to realize that his feelings for her had been greatly helped along by gratitude. He is no longer the only one people look to for answers and if he doesn’t have them, he knows she has his back.
Support. Unwavering support. The one thing she gives him that Kate never could. That’s why whenever Kate shows up at their place she has no qualms about leaving Jack alone with her. Kate can continue to falter however much she wants, stopping by whenever things are bad with Sawyer, and it will only continue to amuse Juliet. Kate still thinks that if she ever decided to choose differently, Jack would be right back by her side. Kate seems to look at Juliet with both jealousy and pity because of her misguided outlook and confused heart. But Juliet’s heart is steady and her outlook clear.
Kate could change her mind, but Jack wouldn’t change his. And because of this she looks back at Kate with only pity.
“Juliet, you with me?” Jack’s voice, always so serious and demanding in the OR, cuts into her thoughts and Juliet realizes she has lost her focus once again. Thank god the surgery is complete or she could have been in a large amount of trouble for her lack of attention.
“Yeah, sorry.” She mumbles, her embarrassed blush hidden by her surgical mask. Before Jack, this never would have happened. The distraction or the blushing. The emotions she used to keep in check at all times now have an awful habit of running around uncontrolled, wreaking havoc. Give an inch, take a mile. Her control has slipped entirely.
However, Jack’s control, his focused concentration that makes his body tense and his senses sharp, is what makes him so electric and alive when it’s all over. Everything he’s been holding inside explodes out of him in a kind of violent passion and on the way home, it’s ready to combust, simmering just below the surface of his wired body. Tonight she can feel it in the way he keeps letting his hand brush over the small of her back as they walk across the perfectly manicured paths or the brusque impatience in his voice when someone stops to idly chat with them in the square.
They’re barely onto the front porch when he starts kissing her and she doesn’t protest, eagerly beginning to unbutton his dark blue dress shirt as he backs her up the steps and against the front door. The tiny buttons slip through the soft fabric so easily, her fingers still as deft as they been earlier when they worked beside Jack’s. Her palms are sliding over his flat stomach and up his strong chest, feeling every muscle she could usually name without thinking shifting under her touch. Now all she can think of is how he feels under her fingers, his body so firm, his skin warm, his heart pounding and his breathing growing increasingly fast and harsh between their enthusiastic kisses.
Both of them could scientifically reason this out. Take a step back and remind themselves of chemical reactions and physiological responses, take their passion and sap it of its power by narrowing it down to specific cause and effects, belittle what they have with talk of adrenaline and psychological ego trips, both of them getting off on having life and death in their hands every day. It wouldn’t help either, trying to put a damper on these post-surgery romps by talking it through rationally. Hearing medical terms fall from Jack’s lips only makes her hotter; his encyclopedic knowledge turns her on. Often when they are discussing a case, she finds herself just staring at his perfect lips as he pronounces the hard to pronounce, cutting off his diagnosis by pushing his folders and reference books away and climbing into his lap, claiming that mouth as hers.
Besides, she’d already spent most of her life being rational. The thrill of not being able to control herself around him doesn’t seem to fade; it’s been months and months since he came to stay with them and from their first kiss onward, it’s been nothing but pure excitement. Throughout his recovery, Ben chastised her for her impropriety but she didn’t care. Jack had saved his life so Ben’s right to criticize anything Jack-related had disappeared in her frame of mind. Somehow, being with Jack made her feel free from Ben and everything Ben had ever forced upon her - her job, her way of life, everything.
She digs the keys out from the front pocket of Jack’s pants, brushing him purposefully as she does so, grinning against his lips as he laughs throatily and murmurs tease. He takes the keys from her and reaches behind her to unlock the door, not breaking away from her for a moment as he slides and turns the key, shoving the door open. They’ve done this so many times now that it’s almost a science, neither of them needing to think about their actions in order to complete them.
Jack picks her up as they move inside and kicks the door shut, hard, lifting her up higher as she wraps her legs around his waist. They stumble further into the house; he moves toward the wall and then she is slamming against it, pictures rattling and shifting behind her back, hanging now at precarious and crooked angles, close to falling off and smashing to the floor. Evening is falling and the house is almost dark; his eyes are bright and her pale skin seems far more creamy and soft in the dim light as he pulls off her shirt and his mouth finds her collarbone, tracing the sharp line with his lips. He kisses the hollow of her neck and then drifts lower.
She holds his head to her and whispers his name as he holds her up, letting her eyes fall closed as he devours her neck, the harsh stubble of his five o’clock shadow rubbing roughly over the sensitive skin of her chest. Her blonde hair is falling loose from her messy ponytail, delicate wisps drifting to her shoulders as breathless moans escape from her mouth. Her fingers find nothing to hold onto as they caress his closely-cropped hair so she can only run her hands over his head, feeling the surprisingly soft bristle of the short strands.
“Jack,” Juliet whispers, not caring how desperate or aroused her breathy voice sounds. It’s been a long time since she’d had to choose her words carefully or force her tone to conform to a specific emotion; the only things she says now are things that she means, desires and wishes that she owns and wants to be known. And Jack no longer doubts her motivations; the last time he’d looked at her with suspicion was when she declared she had made dinner herself, about a week ago. Having tasted her soup, he had every right to be wary.
He teased her about her culinary skills but he choked down her lame attempt at a turkey dinner anyway, smiling and insisting that she had proved him wrong, that it all tasted great. For that reason, along with many, many others, she guides him back to her lips and kisses him passionately, telling him wordlessly how grateful she is that he had set her free from the prison of her own making.
“Jack,” she whispers again. She never tires of saying his name and often lets it turn over on her tongue when she’s alone, pausing in the middle of getting dressed or unpacking groceries and saying it aloud just to hear how it sounds, to revel in the pleasure of being able to say his name and know he’s hers.
“Juliet,” he murmurs in return. He says her name with reverence like someone would whisper the name of a saint, even though he knows better than anyone the sins that she has committed. She had never asked for forgiveness, knowing that she does not deserve it, yet he had given it anyway, with each kiss and each touch, each kind and loving look that he bestowed upon her over the dinner table or while laying beside one another in bed in the warm morning light.
Those are the mornings when she doesn’t want to get out of bed for fear of realizing it’s all been a dream and that she’s still alone, doing Benjamin’s bidding and acting out of fear, day in and day out. There’s nothing even close to fear in her body now as she tugs Jack’s shirt off, slipping her fingers underneath the fabric and sliding it off his broad shoulders, then reaching to the collar and the arms to pull it down. He pins her against the wall with the weight of his body to free his arms for a moment, yanking the shirt over his wrists and flinging it to the floor carelessly.
Juliet runs her hands over his muscled upper arms when he holds her again, eventually wrapping her arms around his neck as he buries his face against her chest, his lips warm against the swell of her breasts above the silky fabric of her bra. She urges her hips toward his, crossing her legs tighter around his waist and forcing him closer to her. She can feel the hardness of his erection throbbing against her through their layers of clothes, pressing between her legs with a promise only left unfulfilled by the barriers in between their bodies.
Trying to snake her hand down to the button of his pants turns out to be a bit of a clumsy effort; maneuvering that way while he has her up against the wall, while his mouth recaptures her and his tongue slides deep and hard against hers proves to be difficult. With much effort she manages to pop the button on the top of his slacks but there’s not enough room between them to pull down his zipper or even to forego it entirely and just force her hand down the front of his pants. Frustrated, she lets out a little groan and tears her lips away from his.
“Bedroom,” she gasps and he nods. The second her feet touch the ground she pushes him back toward the hallway, her fingers already back at work on his pants as she pries off her shoes, almost tripping over them when she moves forward. Laughing lightly against his mouth, somehow he turns her and now she’s the one being pushed backward, Jack leading her right into the wall of the hallway. She wants to reach for him, his black pants hanging open in front and his hard-on swelling through the gap, pressing up against the fabric of his boxers. But before she can move, Jack has her khakis unzipped and shoved down her hips, revealing the blue lace panties that she’d worn specifically to achieve this moment, that lustful look on his face as his eyes move over the barely there scrap of fabric.
“You’ve been wearing these all day?” He asks almost in regret, like if he had known he wouldn’t have waited so long to take her. Juliet smiles and strips her pants the rest of the way off her body, her socks joining them on the hallway floor. She shivers as her delicate feet touch the hardwood and Jack’s eyes darken as they travel over her long thin legs. Hooking a single finger into his waistband, she pulls him back to her with a firm tug. Just like that she is crushed to the wall once more, Jack’s hand under her thigh and urging her leg up around him as he kisses her so thoroughly it makes her head feel dizzy.
The journey to the bedroom is hurried, but not fast. They are both eager to get there but keep careening from side to side, crashing and bumping into things and sending pictures and knick-knacks to the ground, completely unable to see where they are going. Both are unwilling to take their lips off one another and open their eyes. Finally they stumble through the right doorway and collide with the huge bed that Juliet had always felt was far too big for her single person that now seemed just right for two.
Jack sets her down, the bedspread cool against her thighs, and Juliet shifts toward the headboard and lies back onto the mattress like an offering for Jack’s enjoyment. He pulls off his black pants and socks before seeking her again, kneeling at the end of the bed and wrapping his hand around one of her ankles. He lifts her leg slowly and then he slides his hand up the length of her body in a tantalizingly slow and smooth motion, his dark eyes locked on her crystal clear blues ones as he does so, watching her reaction. She lets out a heady sigh and bites her lip, silently asking him for more.
Jack gives her other leg the same attention, letting her heels rest against his sculpted stomach as he snakes his fingers underneath the straps of her panties and tugs them down her body. His short nails rake against her soft skin gently until he unhooks the flimsy undergarment from around her slim ankles and lets it fall silently to the floor behind him. Juliet’s breath catches in her throat when Jack’s eyes darken as he takes her in; every time she is reminded of their first meeting and that anger, that fire that had burned within him and threatened to explode. It was exciting then when rage and confusion caused it; it’s far more thrilling when she knows it is her that is stirring his passion to the surface.
Slowly Juliet sits up, the straps of her bra slipping off her shoulders of their own volition. Her long hair has fallen completely loose, the hair tie lost somewhere along the way and the furthest possible thing from her mind at the moment. Jack moves closer, bending toward her and placing his hands on the bed on either side of her hips. His lips brush over hers in a light tease; each time she tries to draw him deeper but he pulls away, only to come back a moment later and kiss her gently again. Finally she gives in and plays along, letting her mouth fall open and her tongue dance against his the next time he moves close. Jack stays longer this time, their kiss more tongue than lips and then finally he takes it further, pressing his lips to hers with force.
They seem to melt together as he rests his weight upon her, sinking with her down into the mattress. Juliet’s hands find his face and neck, guiding their kiss first one way and then the other; Jack’s hands find different purposes, one tangled in her hair while the other hooks under her thigh, bending her knee and urging it toward his waist, spreading her a little wider as he starts to rock against her. He is hard between her legs and the fabric of his boxers rubs over her naked skin, stimulating her further with each thrust.
Juliet can feel it building within her. She’s hot and dizzy, Jack’s movements, his body, hitting her in flashes instead of as a whole. The slide of his hand there, the grip of his fingers here. The look in his eyes, the feel of his hot warm skin underneath her fingers, the sensation of his throbbing cock so close to her but not inside. She can’t focus long enough to get a complete picture of everything he is doing to her but then again, she never has. Having sex with Jack is the only time in her entire life when she’s simply been unable to think and she’d had to give all of herself over the realm of instinct and emotion.
“Jack…” she whispers in his ear, nipping at the lobe gently and then soothing the area behind it with her lips and tongue. Her fingers move down his lower back and start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, needing him to be naked, body against body. Jack doesn’t react to her plaintive pull so she slides one hand around to his front, feeling the fabric damp from her own excitement as it strains over his hard-on. Jack lets out a grunt when she slips her hand inside and wraps her hand around him, too impatient to wait for him to get the idea and take the annoying item of clothing off.
“I fucking love your cock,” she says breathlessly, letting the words fall off of her tongue in a seductive tone. Something about her talking dirty always gets Jack worked up; her day-to-day persona may be courteous and kind, but she can certainly be naughty. She used to have to let those demons out to make veiled threats or keep prisoners in check, something she never questioned doing until Jack Shephard became her charge.
Now when Juliet plays at being a bad girl, it doesn’t involve handcuffs or blindfolds unless they’re in the bedroom.
Now when Juliet plays at being a bad girl, the promises she makes regarding what she’s going to do to him are of a whole different nature.
Now when Juliet plays at being a bad girl, Jack Shephard doesn’t yell at her from behind thick glass. Now, he groans and kisses her harder, his hands fighting to touch her just as much as they used to fight to keep her away. The yearning and aching need is there in his desperate fingers and searching kiss but she ignores his silent pleas and winds him up even more.
“I want you in my mouth,” she murmurs, so low and sultry that it feels like a curling trail of cigarette smoke fading into the air, the sexual resonance of a femme fatale in silvery black and white celluloid ringing in her tone. But they aren’t Bogey and Bacall trading sexual innuendos and coy flirtation while holding delicate cigarettes between their fingers, lips sucking suggestively. The only thing Juliet is suggesting is that Jack shove his hard dick into her mouth as soon as possible; she wants to taste him, feel him pulse against her tongue, slide past her lips again and again while she slowly drives him crazy.
“Come on,” she urges him. He draws in a deep breath as if trying to get a hold of himself and then moves off of her, pushing his boxers over his sharp hips and down his legs, casting them off to the side. Juliet swallows hard when his body is revealed to her, the tightly packed muscles on his solid body now seeming all the more noticeable when he’s completely naked, as though she hadn’t been able to see him clearly before. “When you’re in surgery I want to drop down onto the ground and suck you off right there, you know that?”
Jack lets her control him for a moment, glad this time for her to tell him what to do. She gestures for him to sit against the headboard and he does so without protest. Juliet kneels at his feet, running her fingers down between her legs, touching herself as she looks at him sitting there. His cock is swollen and leaking, a delicate and faint drop of come forming at his head. She resists the urge to grasp his length and pump him even though her fingers practically twitch with the desire to feel him throb and quiver in her hold. She waits a moment, watching him watch her, and wonders what she could have ever done to deserve this.
Ben had brought Jack here to save his life, yet somehow Jack had saved hers as well.
She smiles faintly and she can see Jack open his mouth to ask her what it’s for. She quickly reaches out and silences him with a finger against his lips, her smile turning sly.
“We should just cut out the middle part and fuck right on that operating table,” she remarks, her hands sliding down his chest, trailed by her lips. She pauses and raises an eyebrow at Jack.
“It does happen every time, doesn’t it,” Jack murmurs in response. The connection had been made in his mind before but he’s never really thought on it too hard. Juliet nods and goes back to kissing his stomach.
“Whenever you say scalpel you might as well just be saying fuck me,” Juliet states and lets her tongue circle around his sensitive head once, a glimpse of what’s to come. “Nothing gets me hotter, Jack….wetter…” She leads his hand between her legs and guides him to her, letting his fingers dip into her dripping entrance. “Than you in surgery.”
“Juliet…” Jack groans quietly and takes in a sharp breath. “Fuck…god...I know.”
“You know what?” She inquires coyly, pulling his hand away from her. He whimpers like a small child who had his favorite toy taken away and reaches for her again.
“Whenever you’re so much as in scrubs I want to tear them off of you and get inside you,” he nearly growls as Juliet rebuffs him, opting instead to continue pleasing him. Jack’s eyes drift closed as Juliet’s hand circles his base and she dips her head, her tongue flicking out to gather the liquid from his top and then her lips wrapping around it. Jack stops talking after this, the power of coherency leaving him as Juliet draws him in with painstaking care, working a small area at a time, making him so sensitive that he’s sure he’s going to lose his mind if she doesn’t stop teasing him soon.
By the time she finally takes all of him inside her mouth, Jack is already clutching at the bed sheets, a helpless noise coming from the back of his throat. Juliet echoes the noise around him and he feels the reverberation all the way down to his toes; his hips rock off the bed toward her and she takes the movement willingly. Jack finds his fingers roped in her hair before he can stop himself, looking down and watching her head bob up and down between his legs, each rise and fall sending an exquisitely painful wave of overwrought lust surging through his body. His legs spread wider, falling open for her.
Juliet’s mouth works him up and down; she sucks so hard Jack thinks he’s going to explode in seconds and then she backs off, tracing his underside with the tip of her tongue, then dipping it into his small opening to taste him. When she takes him back in, all the way this time - something she had only been able to handle recently - the relatively new sensation of his head hitting the back of her throat makes him thrust unexpectedly, very nearly losing it all. He mumbles an apology, worried but not able to get his mouth to form the right words, but Juliet keeps going, apparently unfazed.
“Juliet…oh fuck,” Jack curses. He can’t stop himself from rocking his hips but manages to control it slightly, pushing toward her with short shallow thrusts, his hand still twined in her blond locks. “Juliet, you gotta stop…” he warns, gasping for air, his head alternately being thrown back against the headboard and lurched forward to watch her with hazy eyes. “Juliet, please…” He is begging but he doesn’t care. He needs it and he needs it now.
Juliet does too; it only takes him saying please once for her to acquiesce. She pulls her mouth off of him and moves up to straddle his thighs. Jack sets his hands on her shoulders and slides them down her arms and around to her back, unclasping her bra. Juliet locks eyes with him as she finishes the task, pulling her last remaining article of clothing from her body. Jack takes in the sight of her like he’s seeing her for the first time, his eyes growing wider, darker. Juliet will never get sick of that look; nothing has ever made her feel more wanted.
Taking him back in hand, she strokes him slowly, watching his beautiful face as jolts of satisfaction shock his body like electricity, his eyes threatening to roll back as his eyelids flutter, the pleasure almost too much to handle. Tired of waiting herself, she slides forward and lifts up, holding him firmly and guiding him inside her body. Both of them look down and watch as he penetrates her, a slow slick slide as their bodies connect.
Her hands find his shoulders as he fills and stretches her, her fingers clutching hard as she sinks down onto him, pulling him deeper. They both groan in gratification. This is what they have wanted since Jack had made that first incision, when their pulses started racing and their bodies began sweating underneath the veneer of professional efficiency. Now, neither of them handles each other with delicate care. They still have steady hands and purposeful movements, there is no outward surface of calm any longer.
Juliet moves against him, riding him slowly, her hands sliding over his shoulders, his neck, his head, and his face as his lips attack her body. She holds him to her, the sharp rasp of his stubble the exact kind of rough against her skin to make her start moving faster, harder. Their groans and grunts echo one another, each thrust punctuated by a gasp or sharp cry. She breathes his name and he breathes hers.
Finally it becomes too hard to concentrate on touching one another, kissing. Jack’s hands clench around her hips and she finds purchase at the top of the headboard, her arms on either side of his head. They stare at one another, telegraphing thoughts and wishes with looks too powerful for audible words. Held in this gaze they both find the edge and willingly step over it, falling and falling and falling until the final crash, searing bliss that seems to lift them up and drop them down all at once.
Juliet falls because she knows Jack will catch her. Jack falls because he knows she wants to be caught.
When it’s all over and she is entangled in his embrace, she doesn’t want to move. All she wants is to stay this way forever, finally connected to someone for the first time in her life.
They both wait in silence as they regain control of their bodies and then Jack kisses her softly, the hands which had gripped her so tightly seconds ago now cradling her face with a soft and gentle touch. Juliet loses herself in him, the lust slowly ebbing away and replaced by something stronger, more permanent. She’s never felt it before but she knows he has, and that’s why she doesn’t say it out loud.
He’s felt it before, and he’s been hurt. He won’t give his heart away so easily this time. So she takes what she can get, gathering little pieces of it at a time until she eventually has it all. She has the patience to wait for it.
They lay together until the last glimmer of light is gone from the evening sky, twined together against their pillows and sheets, somewhere in the sated place between sleep and waking.
When the doorbell rings Juliet stirs first but Jack pulls her back, shaking his head no.
“Doctors are out,” he murmurs sleepily, trying to nestle her back against his chest.
But the doorbell rings again and they both sigh deeply.
“I’ll go see who it is and be right back.” Juliet promises, climbing up from bed and pulling on Jack’s boxers and his shirt simply because she knows he likes it, finds it both amusing and sexy to see her wearing his clothes. “I’ll get rid of them, promise.” She winks once and leaves the bedroom, closing the door partway behind her.
She opens the front door to find Kate standing there, tear-stained and upset. The woman looks up at her as if surprised to see her at her own house and quickly wipes the tears from her cheeks, straightening up slightly.
“Hey. Um, is Jack here?” Kate asks weakly and Juliet glances over her shoulder toward the bedroom.
“He’s sleeping,” Juliet replies and Kate nods but doesn’t move. Juliet sighs. “Another fight with Sawyer?”
“I just…I need to talk to Jack. Could you wake him up maybe?”
“Kate…”
Kate pauses, looking almost ashamed that she asked, but it doesn’t stop her from rationalizing it away.
“It’s only seven-thirty…I never thought he’d be asleep this early.” Kate states, eyeing Juliet suspiciously like Juliet is lying. Of course, she is, but Kate doesn’t need to know that.
“Jack had a long day,” Juliet says, knowing she is using her patronizing you’re-acting-like-a-five-year-old tone, but not really caring. “He needs his sleep.”
“Oh. Yeah. Right, well…” Kate wipes her face again, a tear escaping, and takes a step back from the door. “Just tell him I stopped by, please.”
She turns to go and Juliet sighs heavily, knowing deep down that she needs to do the right thing. Despite everything, Kate is still the exception. Jack may only want her as a friend, but she’s his best friend. He wouldn’t consider her someone Juliet should have turned away.
“Kate, wait. Let me just go see if I can wake him. I’m sure he’d want to know you’re here,” Juliet forces out, faking a smile. She leaves the door open and gestures for Kate to come inside and then walks down the hallway toward the bedroom.
Jack looks mildly irked at Juliet’s announcement that Kate’s at the door, like someone might look when a friend calls during their favorite television show. He knows he should talk to her and part of him wants to, but really it’s more of an annoyance.
“Sawyer?” He asks as he reluctantly climbs from the bed. Ever since they’d decided to stay on the island, every few weeks Sawyer and Kate had vicious arguments and Kate knocking on their door is becoming a regular occurrence. The next day they’d be just fine but it doesn’t stop Kate from running to Jack anyway.
“She didn't say, but I’m sure it is.” He goes to the dresser to pull out new clothes, since Juliet just stole his, but Juliet suddenly tosses him his boxers back, followed by his shirt. Jack puts them on and then watches her put on her own clothes.
“I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Jack promises her with a note of lust in his voice and Juliet smiles. She watches, leaning in the doorway, as Jack goes to Kate’s side. She knows Kate sees that Juliet’s wear is now Jack’s, Jack finishing buttoning up his dress shirt as he walks to her. She knows she shouldn’t relish the jealous look that Kate shoots her before Jack sets his hand comfortingly on her shoulder and leads her outside, ready to listen to her spill her troubles as they sit on the front steps as always.
Juliet knows she has no reason to worry, and she knows she shouldn’t derive such pleasure or such a jolt of excitement from rubbing it all in Kate’s face unnecessarily.
She knows, sure. But she guesses being a bad girl isn't so easy to shake after all.
Pairing: Jack/Juliet
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: get_jackoff, bedroom
Spoilers: Vague references to S3 up through 3x05 “The Cost of Living” but nothing major.
Genre: Futurefic
Disclaimer: Not Mine!
Dedication: To laura4lad, who is my Jacket partner-in-crime. :)
Juliet stares at his fingers as he carefully and expertly maneuvers the shiny metal instruments, so easily and quickly that it seems like second nature. The hard part of the surgery, the time of harried orders and quick problem-solving, is over, but her pulse is still racing and as she watches him begin to slide the black stitches in, her mind rushes forward to what will happen when he finishes. She knows she should be watching what she's doing, but even covered in white latex and bright red blood, she can't keep her eyes off of his hands. Hands that she longed to feel all over her body, hands that knew how and where to touch, hands that were strong and rough and masculine but deft and delicate enough to sew the tiny row of sutures that he is starting in on now. The look on his face is pure concentration and after a moment of brief admiration, she visibly shakes herself from it, jarring her thoughts back to the task at hand, and looks down to the open body cavity in front of them.
The surgeries are happening more often now; sometimes it seems like no one in their community got sick until there was a big-time doctor here to take care of them. Jack has his hands full and Juliet secretly thrills every time someone shows up at their doorstep with a problem. She's learned more from Jack than she has from anyone else before, and he's still learning himself. With spinal surgery being his main area of expertise, practicing the large amount of general medicine he's been doing since he came to their town has him poring over medical texts late into the night, refreshing his memory and gathering new information. She studies with him, and in many ways, has become more proficient than he in diagnosing what is ailing their neighbors.
He doesn't seem to be bothered by that, though she had expected him to be. Perhaps if she were someone else, his pride might be injured, but on days when she comes through with the right information or the right help, he only looks on her with admiration and, if she's not mistaken, relief. Those days always lead to nights that are amazing. As good as she is at reading people, it took her a few times of Jack passionately making love to her for her to realize that his feelings for her had been greatly helped along by gratitude. He is no longer the only one people look to for answers and if he doesn’t have them, he knows she has his back.
Support. Unwavering support. The one thing she gives him that Kate never could. That’s why whenever Kate shows up at their place she has no qualms about leaving Jack alone with her. Kate can continue to falter however much she wants, stopping by whenever things are bad with Sawyer, and it will only continue to amuse Juliet. Kate still thinks that if she ever decided to choose differently, Jack would be right back by her side. Kate seems to look at Juliet with both jealousy and pity because of her misguided outlook and confused heart. But Juliet’s heart is steady and her outlook clear.
Kate could change her mind, but Jack wouldn’t change his. And because of this she looks back at Kate with only pity.
“Juliet, you with me?” Jack’s voice, always so serious and demanding in the OR, cuts into her thoughts and Juliet realizes she has lost her focus once again. Thank god the surgery is complete or she could have been in a large amount of trouble for her lack of attention.
“Yeah, sorry.” She mumbles, her embarrassed blush hidden by her surgical mask. Before Jack, this never would have happened. The distraction or the blushing. The emotions she used to keep in check at all times now have an awful habit of running around uncontrolled, wreaking havoc. Give an inch, take a mile. Her control has slipped entirely.
However, Jack’s control, his focused concentration that makes his body tense and his senses sharp, is what makes him so electric and alive when it’s all over. Everything he’s been holding inside explodes out of him in a kind of violent passion and on the way home, it’s ready to combust, simmering just below the surface of his wired body. Tonight she can feel it in the way he keeps letting his hand brush over the small of her back as they walk across the perfectly manicured paths or the brusque impatience in his voice when someone stops to idly chat with them in the square.
They’re barely onto the front porch when he starts kissing her and she doesn’t protest, eagerly beginning to unbutton his dark blue dress shirt as he backs her up the steps and against the front door. The tiny buttons slip through the soft fabric so easily, her fingers still as deft as they been earlier when they worked beside Jack’s. Her palms are sliding over his flat stomach and up his strong chest, feeling every muscle she could usually name without thinking shifting under her touch. Now all she can think of is how he feels under her fingers, his body so firm, his skin warm, his heart pounding and his breathing growing increasingly fast and harsh between their enthusiastic kisses.
Both of them could scientifically reason this out. Take a step back and remind themselves of chemical reactions and physiological responses, take their passion and sap it of its power by narrowing it down to specific cause and effects, belittle what they have with talk of adrenaline and psychological ego trips, both of them getting off on having life and death in their hands every day. It wouldn’t help either, trying to put a damper on these post-surgery romps by talking it through rationally. Hearing medical terms fall from Jack’s lips only makes her hotter; his encyclopedic knowledge turns her on. Often when they are discussing a case, she finds herself just staring at his perfect lips as he pronounces the hard to pronounce, cutting off his diagnosis by pushing his folders and reference books away and climbing into his lap, claiming that mouth as hers.
Besides, she’d already spent most of her life being rational. The thrill of not being able to control herself around him doesn’t seem to fade; it’s been months and months since he came to stay with them and from their first kiss onward, it’s been nothing but pure excitement. Throughout his recovery, Ben chastised her for her impropriety but she didn’t care. Jack had saved his life so Ben’s right to criticize anything Jack-related had disappeared in her frame of mind. Somehow, being with Jack made her feel free from Ben and everything Ben had ever forced upon her - her job, her way of life, everything.
She digs the keys out from the front pocket of Jack’s pants, brushing him purposefully as she does so, grinning against his lips as he laughs throatily and murmurs tease. He takes the keys from her and reaches behind her to unlock the door, not breaking away from her for a moment as he slides and turns the key, shoving the door open. They’ve done this so many times now that it’s almost a science, neither of them needing to think about their actions in order to complete them.
Jack picks her up as they move inside and kicks the door shut, hard, lifting her up higher as she wraps her legs around his waist. They stumble further into the house; he moves toward the wall and then she is slamming against it, pictures rattling and shifting behind her back, hanging now at precarious and crooked angles, close to falling off and smashing to the floor. Evening is falling and the house is almost dark; his eyes are bright and her pale skin seems far more creamy and soft in the dim light as he pulls off her shirt and his mouth finds her collarbone, tracing the sharp line with his lips. He kisses the hollow of her neck and then drifts lower.
She holds his head to her and whispers his name as he holds her up, letting her eyes fall closed as he devours her neck, the harsh stubble of his five o’clock shadow rubbing roughly over the sensitive skin of her chest. Her blonde hair is falling loose from her messy ponytail, delicate wisps drifting to her shoulders as breathless moans escape from her mouth. Her fingers find nothing to hold onto as they caress his closely-cropped hair so she can only run her hands over his head, feeling the surprisingly soft bristle of the short strands.
“Jack,” Juliet whispers, not caring how desperate or aroused her breathy voice sounds. It’s been a long time since she’d had to choose her words carefully or force her tone to conform to a specific emotion; the only things she says now are things that she means, desires and wishes that she owns and wants to be known. And Jack no longer doubts her motivations; the last time he’d looked at her with suspicion was when she declared she had made dinner herself, about a week ago. Having tasted her soup, he had every right to be wary.
He teased her about her culinary skills but he choked down her lame attempt at a turkey dinner anyway, smiling and insisting that she had proved him wrong, that it all tasted great. For that reason, along with many, many others, she guides him back to her lips and kisses him passionately, telling him wordlessly how grateful she is that he had set her free from the prison of her own making.
“Jack,” she whispers again. She never tires of saying his name and often lets it turn over on her tongue when she’s alone, pausing in the middle of getting dressed or unpacking groceries and saying it aloud just to hear how it sounds, to revel in the pleasure of being able to say his name and know he’s hers.
“Juliet,” he murmurs in return. He says her name with reverence like someone would whisper the name of a saint, even though he knows better than anyone the sins that she has committed. She had never asked for forgiveness, knowing that she does not deserve it, yet he had given it anyway, with each kiss and each touch, each kind and loving look that he bestowed upon her over the dinner table or while laying beside one another in bed in the warm morning light.
Those are the mornings when she doesn’t want to get out of bed for fear of realizing it’s all been a dream and that she’s still alone, doing Benjamin’s bidding and acting out of fear, day in and day out. There’s nothing even close to fear in her body now as she tugs Jack’s shirt off, slipping her fingers underneath the fabric and sliding it off his broad shoulders, then reaching to the collar and the arms to pull it down. He pins her against the wall with the weight of his body to free his arms for a moment, yanking the shirt over his wrists and flinging it to the floor carelessly.
Juliet runs her hands over his muscled upper arms when he holds her again, eventually wrapping her arms around his neck as he buries his face against her chest, his lips warm against the swell of her breasts above the silky fabric of her bra. She urges her hips toward his, crossing her legs tighter around his waist and forcing him closer to her. She can feel the hardness of his erection throbbing against her through their layers of clothes, pressing between her legs with a promise only left unfulfilled by the barriers in between their bodies.
Trying to snake her hand down to the button of his pants turns out to be a bit of a clumsy effort; maneuvering that way while he has her up against the wall, while his mouth recaptures her and his tongue slides deep and hard against hers proves to be difficult. With much effort she manages to pop the button on the top of his slacks but there’s not enough room between them to pull down his zipper or even to forego it entirely and just force her hand down the front of his pants. Frustrated, she lets out a little groan and tears her lips away from his.
“Bedroom,” she gasps and he nods. The second her feet touch the ground she pushes him back toward the hallway, her fingers already back at work on his pants as she pries off her shoes, almost tripping over them when she moves forward. Laughing lightly against his mouth, somehow he turns her and now she’s the one being pushed backward, Jack leading her right into the wall of the hallway. She wants to reach for him, his black pants hanging open in front and his hard-on swelling through the gap, pressing up against the fabric of his boxers. But before she can move, Jack has her khakis unzipped and shoved down her hips, revealing the blue lace panties that she’d worn specifically to achieve this moment, that lustful look on his face as his eyes move over the barely there scrap of fabric.
“You’ve been wearing these all day?” He asks almost in regret, like if he had known he wouldn’t have waited so long to take her. Juliet smiles and strips her pants the rest of the way off her body, her socks joining them on the hallway floor. She shivers as her delicate feet touch the hardwood and Jack’s eyes darken as they travel over her long thin legs. Hooking a single finger into his waistband, she pulls him back to her with a firm tug. Just like that she is crushed to the wall once more, Jack’s hand under her thigh and urging her leg up around him as he kisses her so thoroughly it makes her head feel dizzy.
The journey to the bedroom is hurried, but not fast. They are both eager to get there but keep careening from side to side, crashing and bumping into things and sending pictures and knick-knacks to the ground, completely unable to see where they are going. Both are unwilling to take their lips off one another and open their eyes. Finally they stumble through the right doorway and collide with the huge bed that Juliet had always felt was far too big for her single person that now seemed just right for two.
Jack sets her down, the bedspread cool against her thighs, and Juliet shifts toward the headboard and lies back onto the mattress like an offering for Jack’s enjoyment. He pulls off his black pants and socks before seeking her again, kneeling at the end of the bed and wrapping his hand around one of her ankles. He lifts her leg slowly and then he slides his hand up the length of her body in a tantalizingly slow and smooth motion, his dark eyes locked on her crystal clear blues ones as he does so, watching her reaction. She lets out a heady sigh and bites her lip, silently asking him for more.
Jack gives her other leg the same attention, letting her heels rest against his sculpted stomach as he snakes his fingers underneath the straps of her panties and tugs them down her body. His short nails rake against her soft skin gently until he unhooks the flimsy undergarment from around her slim ankles and lets it fall silently to the floor behind him. Juliet’s breath catches in her throat when Jack’s eyes darken as he takes her in; every time she is reminded of their first meeting and that anger, that fire that had burned within him and threatened to explode. It was exciting then when rage and confusion caused it; it’s far more thrilling when she knows it is her that is stirring his passion to the surface.
Slowly Juliet sits up, the straps of her bra slipping off her shoulders of their own volition. Her long hair has fallen completely loose, the hair tie lost somewhere along the way and the furthest possible thing from her mind at the moment. Jack moves closer, bending toward her and placing his hands on the bed on either side of her hips. His lips brush over hers in a light tease; each time she tries to draw him deeper but he pulls away, only to come back a moment later and kiss her gently again. Finally she gives in and plays along, letting her mouth fall open and her tongue dance against his the next time he moves close. Jack stays longer this time, their kiss more tongue than lips and then finally he takes it further, pressing his lips to hers with force.
They seem to melt together as he rests his weight upon her, sinking with her down into the mattress. Juliet’s hands find his face and neck, guiding their kiss first one way and then the other; Jack’s hands find different purposes, one tangled in her hair while the other hooks under her thigh, bending her knee and urging it toward his waist, spreading her a little wider as he starts to rock against her. He is hard between her legs and the fabric of his boxers rubs over her naked skin, stimulating her further with each thrust.
Juliet can feel it building within her. She’s hot and dizzy, Jack’s movements, his body, hitting her in flashes instead of as a whole. The slide of his hand there, the grip of his fingers here. The look in his eyes, the feel of his hot warm skin underneath her fingers, the sensation of his throbbing cock so close to her but not inside. She can’t focus long enough to get a complete picture of everything he is doing to her but then again, she never has. Having sex with Jack is the only time in her entire life when she’s simply been unable to think and she’d had to give all of herself over the realm of instinct and emotion.
“Jack…” she whispers in his ear, nipping at the lobe gently and then soothing the area behind it with her lips and tongue. Her fingers move down his lower back and start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, needing him to be naked, body against body. Jack doesn’t react to her plaintive pull so she slides one hand around to his front, feeling the fabric damp from her own excitement as it strains over his hard-on. Jack lets out a grunt when she slips her hand inside and wraps her hand around him, too impatient to wait for him to get the idea and take the annoying item of clothing off.
“I fucking love your cock,” she says breathlessly, letting the words fall off of her tongue in a seductive tone. Something about her talking dirty always gets Jack worked up; her day-to-day persona may be courteous and kind, but she can certainly be naughty. She used to have to let those demons out to make veiled threats or keep prisoners in check, something she never questioned doing until Jack Shephard became her charge.
Now when Juliet plays at being a bad girl, it doesn’t involve handcuffs or blindfolds unless they’re in the bedroom.
Now when Juliet plays at being a bad girl, the promises she makes regarding what she’s going to do to him are of a whole different nature.
Now when Juliet plays at being a bad girl, Jack Shephard doesn’t yell at her from behind thick glass. Now, he groans and kisses her harder, his hands fighting to touch her just as much as they used to fight to keep her away. The yearning and aching need is there in his desperate fingers and searching kiss but she ignores his silent pleas and winds him up even more.
“I want you in my mouth,” she murmurs, so low and sultry that it feels like a curling trail of cigarette smoke fading into the air, the sexual resonance of a femme fatale in silvery black and white celluloid ringing in her tone. But they aren’t Bogey and Bacall trading sexual innuendos and coy flirtation while holding delicate cigarettes between their fingers, lips sucking suggestively. The only thing Juliet is suggesting is that Jack shove his hard dick into her mouth as soon as possible; she wants to taste him, feel him pulse against her tongue, slide past her lips again and again while she slowly drives him crazy.
“Come on,” she urges him. He draws in a deep breath as if trying to get a hold of himself and then moves off of her, pushing his boxers over his sharp hips and down his legs, casting them off to the side. Juliet swallows hard when his body is revealed to her, the tightly packed muscles on his solid body now seeming all the more noticeable when he’s completely naked, as though she hadn’t been able to see him clearly before. “When you’re in surgery I want to drop down onto the ground and suck you off right there, you know that?”
Jack lets her control him for a moment, glad this time for her to tell him what to do. She gestures for him to sit against the headboard and he does so without protest. Juliet kneels at his feet, running her fingers down between her legs, touching herself as she looks at him sitting there. His cock is swollen and leaking, a delicate and faint drop of come forming at his head. She resists the urge to grasp his length and pump him even though her fingers practically twitch with the desire to feel him throb and quiver in her hold. She waits a moment, watching him watch her, and wonders what she could have ever done to deserve this.
Ben had brought Jack here to save his life, yet somehow Jack had saved hers as well.
She smiles faintly and she can see Jack open his mouth to ask her what it’s for. She quickly reaches out and silences him with a finger against his lips, her smile turning sly.
“We should just cut out the middle part and fuck right on that operating table,” she remarks, her hands sliding down his chest, trailed by her lips. She pauses and raises an eyebrow at Jack.
“It does happen every time, doesn’t it,” Jack murmurs in response. The connection had been made in his mind before but he’s never really thought on it too hard. Juliet nods and goes back to kissing his stomach.
“Whenever you say scalpel you might as well just be saying fuck me,” Juliet states and lets her tongue circle around his sensitive head once, a glimpse of what’s to come. “Nothing gets me hotter, Jack….wetter…” She leads his hand between her legs and guides him to her, letting his fingers dip into her dripping entrance. “Than you in surgery.”
“Juliet…” Jack groans quietly and takes in a sharp breath. “Fuck…god...I know.”
“You know what?” She inquires coyly, pulling his hand away from her. He whimpers like a small child who had his favorite toy taken away and reaches for her again.
“Whenever you’re so much as in scrubs I want to tear them off of you and get inside you,” he nearly growls as Juliet rebuffs him, opting instead to continue pleasing him. Jack’s eyes drift closed as Juliet’s hand circles his base and she dips her head, her tongue flicking out to gather the liquid from his top and then her lips wrapping around it. Jack stops talking after this, the power of coherency leaving him as Juliet draws him in with painstaking care, working a small area at a time, making him so sensitive that he’s sure he’s going to lose his mind if she doesn’t stop teasing him soon.
By the time she finally takes all of him inside her mouth, Jack is already clutching at the bed sheets, a helpless noise coming from the back of his throat. Juliet echoes the noise around him and he feels the reverberation all the way down to his toes; his hips rock off the bed toward her and she takes the movement willingly. Jack finds his fingers roped in her hair before he can stop himself, looking down and watching her head bob up and down between his legs, each rise and fall sending an exquisitely painful wave of overwrought lust surging through his body. His legs spread wider, falling open for her.
Juliet’s mouth works him up and down; she sucks so hard Jack thinks he’s going to explode in seconds and then she backs off, tracing his underside with the tip of her tongue, then dipping it into his small opening to taste him. When she takes him back in, all the way this time - something she had only been able to handle recently - the relatively new sensation of his head hitting the back of her throat makes him thrust unexpectedly, very nearly losing it all. He mumbles an apology, worried but not able to get his mouth to form the right words, but Juliet keeps going, apparently unfazed.
“Juliet…oh fuck,” Jack curses. He can’t stop himself from rocking his hips but manages to control it slightly, pushing toward her with short shallow thrusts, his hand still twined in her blond locks. “Juliet, you gotta stop…” he warns, gasping for air, his head alternately being thrown back against the headboard and lurched forward to watch her with hazy eyes. “Juliet, please…” He is begging but he doesn’t care. He needs it and he needs it now.
Juliet does too; it only takes him saying please once for her to acquiesce. She pulls her mouth off of him and moves up to straddle his thighs. Jack sets his hands on her shoulders and slides them down her arms and around to her back, unclasping her bra. Juliet locks eyes with him as she finishes the task, pulling her last remaining article of clothing from her body. Jack takes in the sight of her like he’s seeing her for the first time, his eyes growing wider, darker. Juliet will never get sick of that look; nothing has ever made her feel more wanted.
Taking him back in hand, she strokes him slowly, watching his beautiful face as jolts of satisfaction shock his body like electricity, his eyes threatening to roll back as his eyelids flutter, the pleasure almost too much to handle. Tired of waiting herself, she slides forward and lifts up, holding him firmly and guiding him inside her body. Both of them look down and watch as he penetrates her, a slow slick slide as their bodies connect.
Her hands find his shoulders as he fills and stretches her, her fingers clutching hard as she sinks down onto him, pulling him deeper. They both groan in gratification. This is what they have wanted since Jack had made that first incision, when their pulses started racing and their bodies began sweating underneath the veneer of professional efficiency. Now, neither of them handles each other with delicate care. They still have steady hands and purposeful movements, there is no outward surface of calm any longer.
Juliet moves against him, riding him slowly, her hands sliding over his shoulders, his neck, his head, and his face as his lips attack her body. She holds him to her, the sharp rasp of his stubble the exact kind of rough against her skin to make her start moving faster, harder. Their groans and grunts echo one another, each thrust punctuated by a gasp or sharp cry. She breathes his name and he breathes hers.
Finally it becomes too hard to concentrate on touching one another, kissing. Jack’s hands clench around her hips and she finds purchase at the top of the headboard, her arms on either side of his head. They stare at one another, telegraphing thoughts and wishes with looks too powerful for audible words. Held in this gaze they both find the edge and willingly step over it, falling and falling and falling until the final crash, searing bliss that seems to lift them up and drop them down all at once.
Juliet falls because she knows Jack will catch her. Jack falls because he knows she wants to be caught.
When it’s all over and she is entangled in his embrace, she doesn’t want to move. All she wants is to stay this way forever, finally connected to someone for the first time in her life.
They both wait in silence as they regain control of their bodies and then Jack kisses her softly, the hands which had gripped her so tightly seconds ago now cradling her face with a soft and gentle touch. Juliet loses herself in him, the lust slowly ebbing away and replaced by something stronger, more permanent. She’s never felt it before but she knows he has, and that’s why she doesn’t say it out loud.
He’s felt it before, and he’s been hurt. He won’t give his heart away so easily this time. So she takes what she can get, gathering little pieces of it at a time until she eventually has it all. She has the patience to wait for it.
They lay together until the last glimmer of light is gone from the evening sky, twined together against their pillows and sheets, somewhere in the sated place between sleep and waking.
When the doorbell rings Juliet stirs first but Jack pulls her back, shaking his head no.
“Doctors are out,” he murmurs sleepily, trying to nestle her back against his chest.
But the doorbell rings again and they both sigh deeply.
“I’ll go see who it is and be right back.” Juliet promises, climbing up from bed and pulling on Jack’s boxers and his shirt simply because she knows he likes it, finds it both amusing and sexy to see her wearing his clothes. “I’ll get rid of them, promise.” She winks once and leaves the bedroom, closing the door partway behind her.
She opens the front door to find Kate standing there, tear-stained and upset. The woman looks up at her as if surprised to see her at her own house and quickly wipes the tears from her cheeks, straightening up slightly.
“Hey. Um, is Jack here?” Kate asks weakly and Juliet glances over her shoulder toward the bedroom.
“He’s sleeping,” Juliet replies and Kate nods but doesn’t move. Juliet sighs. “Another fight with Sawyer?”
“I just…I need to talk to Jack. Could you wake him up maybe?”
“Kate…”
Kate pauses, looking almost ashamed that she asked, but it doesn’t stop her from rationalizing it away.
“It’s only seven-thirty…I never thought he’d be asleep this early.” Kate states, eyeing Juliet suspiciously like Juliet is lying. Of course, she is, but Kate doesn’t need to know that.
“Jack had a long day,” Juliet says, knowing she is using her patronizing you’re-acting-like-a-five-year-old tone, but not really caring. “He needs his sleep.”
“Oh. Yeah. Right, well…” Kate wipes her face again, a tear escaping, and takes a step back from the door. “Just tell him I stopped by, please.”
She turns to go and Juliet sighs heavily, knowing deep down that she needs to do the right thing. Despite everything, Kate is still the exception. Jack may only want her as a friend, but she’s his best friend. He wouldn’t consider her someone Juliet should have turned away.
“Kate, wait. Let me just go see if I can wake him. I’m sure he’d want to know you’re here,” Juliet forces out, faking a smile. She leaves the door open and gestures for Kate to come inside and then walks down the hallway toward the bedroom.
Jack looks mildly irked at Juliet’s announcement that Kate’s at the door, like someone might look when a friend calls during their favorite television show. He knows he should talk to her and part of him wants to, but really it’s more of an annoyance.
“Sawyer?” He asks as he reluctantly climbs from the bed. Ever since they’d decided to stay on the island, every few weeks Sawyer and Kate had vicious arguments and Kate knocking on their door is becoming a regular occurrence. The next day they’d be just fine but it doesn’t stop Kate from running to Jack anyway.
“She didn't say, but I’m sure it is.” He goes to the dresser to pull out new clothes, since Juliet just stole his, but Juliet suddenly tosses him his boxers back, followed by his shirt. Jack puts them on and then watches her put on her own clothes.
“I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Jack promises her with a note of lust in his voice and Juliet smiles. She watches, leaning in the doorway, as Jack goes to Kate’s side. She knows Kate sees that Juliet’s wear is now Jack’s, Jack finishing buttoning up his dress shirt as he walks to her. She knows she shouldn’t relish the jealous look that Kate shoots her before Jack sets his hand comfortingly on her shoulder and leads her outside, ready to listen to her spill her troubles as they sit on the front steps as always.
Juliet knows she has no reason to worry, and she knows she shouldn’t derive such pleasure or such a jolt of excitement from rubbing it all in Kate’s face unnecessarily.
She knows, sure. But she guesses being a bad girl isn't so easy to shake after all.