You Can Forget All Your Troubles - Lost - Claire/Juliet
Title: You Can Forget All Your Troubles
Pairing: Claire/Juliet
Word Count: 3538
Rating: PG-13
A/N: This fic is what happens when last.fm decides to play Emma Bunton's cover of Downtown to me during the wee hours of the morning. It is also what happens when I look up pretty pictures like this. This is totally AU pre-series.
Summary: At a medical conference, Juliet runs into an Australian lounge singer named Claire and can't fight the instant connection between them.
When you're alone
And life is making you lonely,
You can always go downtown
When you've got worries,
All the noise and the hurry
Seems to help, I know: downtown.
Sitting at the bar, Juliet Burke winced as she heard the sound of her favourite song being covered. It didn't matter that the singer had a fair enough voice: there were some songs that Juliet would rather remained untouched. This was one of them. She held her glass in her hand and stared at the liquid that it contained. Usually she wouldn't drink while she was working, but officially she was off-duty now.
She hated coming to these medical conferences. She always felt out of place as a research scientist as opposed to a practitioner; it felt like high school all over again, and she was outside of the cool clique. She wouldn't have come at all if her ex-husband and current employer hadn't stressed that it would be 'helpful' for her. She knew that his real reasoning was a desire to make sure she was out of sight for a few days - some potential investors were coming to inspect the labs and apparently she didn't give off the right image - but she hadn't protested. She'd packed her suitcase and she'd come. As if the day wasn't bad enough, now she had to listen to a cover of her song.
Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city
Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty
How can you lose?
At least the singer could hold a note, she consoled herself. She was no Petula, but it could be worse. A whole lot worse. Juliet closed her eyes and held onto her drink, allowing that voice and her imagination transport her back to her kitchen at home. Muffins in the oven; dishes in the sink; CD playing happily. She could be far from here, feigning happiness.
She drained the last of her drink and stood up, chasing the sound of the voice and the music through the hotel's rooms. This was a far more expensive place than she'd ever be able to afford herself: the company hosting the event was the one footing the bill. Even so, the extravagant surroundings made her feel guilty and dwarfed. A chandelier dazzled in the foyer and the walls themselves seemed to shimmer and sparkle with gold. She couldn't imagine being able to afford this kind of luxury.
When she found the source of the singer, a blonde female in the hotel lounge, the rest of the hotel's riches paled. The woman's hair was lighter than gold and looked soft and luxuriant as it flowed down the bare skin of her back. The pale pink dress she wore had no back, but a series of soft straps held the dress over her shoulder blades instead. Her skin was milky-pale, almost white, and when she looked across the disinterested audience her eyes were such a shocking shade of blue that Juliet's eyebrows rose.
She was beautiful, and Juliet felt her cheeks colour the moment that thought crossed her mind.
She took an empty seat, the only person in the room paying close attention to the entertainment. She couldn't take her eyes off of her, even as Downtown finished and the singer paused for the lacklustre applause before the piano player brought them into a new tune.
Juliet stayed downstairs in the lounge all evening, despite her plans to take an early shower and head away to bed. The singer and her pianist flowed through a series of old hits, smiling pleasantly and seeming to enjoy themselves as they did so. Even when Juliet was distracted by others from the conference coming to talk to her she kept an ear out for that gentle voice, and she stayed there after they'd left.
When the singer finished her last song, the final note fading, she placed a hand on the microphone and smiled at the few people that stayed behind. "Thank you! I've been Claire Littleton; enjoy your stay."
Australian.
A long way from home, Juliet thought with a dizzying thrill. She watched as Claire moved away from the microphone to talk to her pianist and take a drink from a cup of water sitting on top of his stand-up piano. Juliet watched them while trying to seem as if she wasn't; she couldn't help being fascinated. She couldn't even explain it. This woman was everything that she wasn't, moving with a beautiful but subtle grace. The material of the pink dress she wore looked satiny and soft.
When the pair of blond musicians looked up in her direction, Juliet distracted herself quickly. She wished that she'd brought a drink through here so that she at least had some kind of excuse for wasting hours upon the couch, but she had nothing. The others who remained in the room were in large and rowdy groups: businessmen, she'd guess from the expensive suits and boring jokes that boomed from them. Nervously, she tucked her hair behind her ear and knew that there was a blush colouring her cheeks.
It only intensified when she heard footsteps coming towards her. She made an attempt to stand up, ready to go back to her room, but before she could retreat - flee - she found the young woman standing right in front of her. The sight of her up-close was more breathtaking than it had been from afar; the blue of her eyes made Juliet think of every cliché in the world. The ocean and the sky and electricity.
"Did you like the show?" Claire asked; warm, friendly, unintimidating. She raised one delicate hand to brush her hair behind her ear, and Juliet's eyes tracked the movement without even noticing she was doing it.
"It was nice," Juliet admitted. She wished she knew how to explain the buzzing of warm anxiety in the pit of her belly. She hadn't felt like this since high school. "You have a really nice voice."
"Yeah," Claire agreed. "'Nice'. What's your name?"
"Juliet. I'm here with the medical conference."
Claire held her gaze with bright confidence and interest; Juliet hadn't had anyone look at her like this for what felt like eternity. Claire looked at her like she saw her. No one did that other than her sister, and this was different. This was so different.
"Having fun?" Claire asked.
"I don't think I'm supposed to," Juliet confessed. "Conferences aren't 'fun' so much as they're… 'necessary'." She sounded terrible, didn't she? She sounded boring and pathetic and old; sometimes she looked in the mirror and felt a thousand years older than she really was. Every time she allowed someone else to walk over her it added an extra year onto her shoulders. She wished that she could find a way to ice over her heart and block it all out forever. Life would be so much easier that way.
"Yikes," Claire said, and Juliet wished that she could change the subject altogether. "Are you a doctor, then?"
"I'm a scientist." She smiled sheepishly: nobody ever expected that answer from her. "A fertility specialist."
"Wow, that's amazing," Claire said - her eyes dazzled and Juliet knew that she had to be feigning her reaction but it still made her smile become a little prouder. "I know it's late, but can I buy you a drink?"
The question was rushed out, lacking the rest of Claire's confidence. Behind those words Juliet could hear the woman not the singer: a lack of showmanship.
"Sure," she answered, nodding. "Will your friend be alright with that?"
Claire looked over her shoulder to where the pianist was very carefully pretending that he wasn't watching them. Protective, Juliet thought. She would have liked to know somebody like that; it would have been nice to have someone who cared about her in that way.
Claire's smile was bright and she reached for Juliet's hand to help her to her feet. "Yeah, don't worry about Charlie. He likes to watch out for me."
"Is he your brother?" Juliet asked. There was a certain resemblance there, she supposed, but it was likely that it was all down to the hair and nothing further.
Claire laughed, a quiet, girlish sound. Juliet watched her, unable to take her eyes away. She's beautiful. The thought popped into her mind of its own accord and once it was there it stuck like a fly in a spider's web. She didn't know what it meant and maybe she didn't want to know - but it was true. It was objectively and completely true. Claire had an otherworldly beauty that most women could only dream of, but she managed to be the girl next door at the same time.
"No, he's not. He's just a friend," she said. She pressed her lips together while smiling in a way that looked almost coy. Innocent. Juliet could have watched that expression forever without getting bored. "I don't have any siblings, actually. Your typical spoilt lonely child."
"You don't seem spoilt to me," Juliet said as they walked back to the bar together. It was getting late; Juliet supposed they'd be closing up soon, and the bartender was cleaning down the surfaces when they entered. He perked up when he saw Claire, though, and was behind the bar in an instant for them.
Drink in hand, Juliet felt a little safer when she tried to talk to Claire. Though the blush didn't fade from her face and only re-ignited every time that Claire smiled in amusement, she didn't fall over her words. They seemed to fall into place more easily than they had in a long time.
In her mind, the Fact File on Claire Littleton began to expand as she asked curious questions and drank in the answers. She was from Australia originally but had come to the US when 'something' had happened with her mother; she had a very young son that Charlie helped to raise; she'd been singing since she was a teenager; the job with the hotel was only supposed to be for a year but had turned into two and looked as if it might turn into more.
"Do you write anything yourself?" Juliet asked. It had been covers all evening and nothing but that.
Claire shook her head. "Charlie does, but not me. He's the real talent, I guess."
"I don't think so," Juliet said impulsively - impulses in Claire's presence seemed to have a way of being acted upon. Juliet wasn't used to that; she didn't know what to make of it. Every new action was usually pushed upon her or weighed and measured first. Not now. Not around this stranger. Claire's gaze caught her own, an endless blue that even the deepest ocean couldn't aspire to, and Juliet found herself having to soon look down at her glass to escape the intensity of it. She'd hardly had a single sip but she still held onto it tightly. It was keeping her there at the bar, and she somehow knew that this was where she needed to be. "You have a wonderful voice, Claire."
She nearly jumped with shock when she felt Claire's delicate hand on her shoulder. It was such a small point of contact, her palm and small fingers, but the heat was soon all that Juliet could think about. "Thank you," Claire said warmly, but she didn't withdraw her hand afterwards. It stayed in the same place, but her fingers traced light promises onto Juliet's skin through the cheap material of her blouse. "I like your voice too."
"You haven't heard me sing," Juliet pointed out.
"I like listening to you talk," Claire said firmly. "I feel like you don't do it very often."
Juliet glanced up for only a moment before the bundle of nerves that twisted in the pit of her stomach made her look down again. "I'm a good listener," she answered.
"A little too good, if you ask me." Claire's hand on her shoulder was still a point of warmth and comfort. "I think you're pretty amazing, Juliet, and I've only known you for an hour. Think about how wonderful the people who really know you must think you are."
Juliet gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Maybe it's because you've only just met me that you think I'm…" She allowed her words to trail away as she felt an irrational tightness in her throat. Claire's hand left her shoulder to tuck her hair behind her ear for her; the touch was all too soft and all too careful, as if Claire was trying to look after her. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry; I shouldn't be doing this."
"I'm glad you are," Claire told her. "I think maybe it's good for you."
Juliet shook her head but found that she couldn't form a single word, too focused on not allowing herself to cry as she thought about how no one had been as kind or attentive to her as this stranger was being in years. She had never anticipated her evening ending here, nor would she have been able to predict the words that came next from Claire's mouth. "Would you like to go up to your room?" Claire asked. "With me, I mean. Nothing has to happen - I mean, I wouldn't do that - but the bar's kinda closing up and I don't want to say goodbye yet."
Juliet lifted her head to see that the chairs around the bar area had been hung upside down upon the tables and that several of the lights had already been switched off. The bartender had a large, black parka on already and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. When he caught Juliet's eye he smiled sheepishly and she looked away because her vision was still blurred.
"Are you sure?" she asked Claire. "You don't have to come with me. It's fine."
She didn't need Claire to be nice to her; it'd be easier if she wasn't. It would be easier to hide away from the world if she didn't have a beautiful woman at her side telling her that she didn't have to.
"I was the one that suggested it, remember? I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to come," Claire said.
She wanted to protest more - manners, etiquette, fear - but she didn't. She gathered her bag and stood up from the bar stool, hunting for her room key in her purse. "I'm on the second floor," she said.
When they arrived in her room Claire made a quiet sound of awe as they walked inside. "I've never actually been in one of the suites before," she said. "They're amazing."
"Widmore Industries is paying for it," Juliet said. "Not me."
Maybe that was why Claire was here; maybe she'd mistakenly come to the assumption that Juliet was much richer than she was. Juliet could see how that could happen when she was a guest in a hotel like this, but it wasn't like that. She wasn't like that. Underpaid and under appreciated and under-everything.
Claire only smiled and she didn't leave, instead pacing around the room instead. "It's gorgeous. Maybe I should become a scientist if it gets you perks like this."
"It doesn't usually," Juliet said. "Normally I'm stuck in a lab all day. Even the conferences aren't usually this…" She gestured vaguely as she tried to summon the right word.
"Needlessly extravagant?" Claire suggested.
Juliet smiled. "Something like that."
"Must be nice," Claire commented all the same. "Getting spoilt, getting this kind of luxury… Sounds like you work hard enough all the time that you deserve something like this once in a while."
Juliet floundered, unsure of what to say. The room was amazing, that was true, but she found that the only thing in it that had her attention was Claire herself. Claire was like nobody she'd ever seen before. She'd been unable to wretch her attention from Claire since she'd first set eyes on her and since the cover version of her favourite song had penetrated through her gloomy mood. Here, standing in her bedroom, Claire looked more enchanting than ever, and it left Juliet unable to understand what was going on. "Why are you here, Claire?" she asked, head tilting to the side. "Why… Me?"
Of all the people, Claire was here with her. It made no sense.
Claire's supernaturally blue eyes watched her for a few long moments that made Juliet feel like one her own slides being watched under a microscope. "Because," Claire said, "you looked sad. I get that."
You have nothing to be sad about, Juliet thought, but she didn't say it: the words froze because of the expression on Claire's face, too old and too worn for her youth. Claire was so young yet she already had a child to look after with the biological father nowhere in sight; she was working as a lounge singer despite having the sweetest voice Juliet had heard in years; and, most importantly, she'd decided to approach Juliet of all people. Someone with any other options wouldn't have done that, would they?
"I thought you could maybe do with some company," Claire explained. She shrugged as if it was nothing, but in her pale pink dress the movement looked graceful and fluid, too well-planned to be natural.
Juliet thought, unexpectedly, that maybe Claire was just as nervous and broken as she was, underneath it all. "I'm glad you thought that," she said, though it took all the limited courage she possessed to dredge those words from her mouth. "It's true."
She didn't like to admit to her vulnerabilities so openly. Her behaviour screamed her faults and weak points all too loudly without the need to state it bluntly.
With Claire, she could.
With Claire, it didn't scare her.
"It's true for me too," Claire admitted with a smile that seemed sheepish and self-deprecating. "And you were paying attention all evening. No one does that."
"You noticed?"
"Yeah. Like I said: no one does that. Not usually." Claire smiled when Juliet felt blood rush to her cheeks. "So I had to ask myself why there was a beautiful woman sitting alone watching me all night instead of wrapping men around her fingers."
Juliet gave a startled laugh, unable to hold herself back.
"It's true, you know. One of these days you're going to realise it." Claire moved forward until she was able to take Juliet's hand, her palm small and gentle. She looked at Juliet with an impish glint in her gaze. "And believe me, Juliet - once you've realised how strong you are, nothing's going to get in your way. Nothing and no one."
Juliet wanted to say something to her: she wanted to protest or thank her or say that wasn't true and couldn't be. Her brain froze, however. It froze and then melted altogether as Claire placed her other hand on Juliet's cheek and leaned in close until Juliet felt the soft, sweet pressure of Claire's lips against her own. Her eyes slipped closed and her hand squeezed Claire's where they were still linked. The way Claire kissed her was nothing like how Edmund had: Claire offered; Edmund had taken.
Her lips were soft and the kiss was short. Too short, before Claire stepped away again. There was a blush to her face now and she giggled nervously before she tucked a lock of her light blonde hair behind her ear. "I should let you get some rest. I'm sorry."
"You could stay," Juliet suggested. "If you wanted to…"
"Not tonight," Claire said. "You're upset. I upset you. I won't take advantage, but… How long are you gonna be here?"
"Two more nights," Juliet said. After that she was back to the laboratory, back to her work, back to her life: she would return to invisibility and she would never have anyone look at her the way that Claire did, not ever again.
"I'm singing again tomorrow night." Claire's smile twisted playfully again. Juliet could see the white hint of her teeth and a flash of how those would feel nipping at her neck nearly made it impossible to focus on what Claire said next. "Will I see you there?"
Juliet nodded and knew that she'd clear herself of all obligations if she'd made any. "Of course," she answered.
The pleased expression on Claire's face sent a warm buzz throughout Juliet's body. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," Claire said. She stepped forward again and placed her hand on Juliet's arm, kissing the side of her mouth so lightly that it was enough to make a longing sigh escape from Juliet's lips. "Sleep well, Juliet."
She swept out of the room and as Juliet watched her go she drank in the smooth skin that the back of her dress revealed. She'd never met anyone like Claire before - someone so normal and so much more than normal at once - and she'd never felt this instant attraction for another woman either. Now thoughts of Claire and only Claire danced in her mind, and with Claire's warm words to back her up Juliet knew she'd be so much more confident with her colleagues at tomorrow's events.
Pairing: Claire/Juliet
Word Count: 3538
Rating: PG-13
A/N: This fic is what happens when last.fm decides to play Emma Bunton's cover of Downtown to me during the wee hours of the morning. It is also what happens when I look up pretty pictures like this. This is totally AU pre-series.
Summary: At a medical conference, Juliet runs into an Australian lounge singer named Claire and can't fight the instant connection between them.
When you're alone
And life is making you lonely,
You can always go downtown
When you've got worries,
All the noise and the hurry
Seems to help, I know: downtown.
Sitting at the bar, Juliet Burke winced as she heard the sound of her favourite song being covered. It didn't matter that the singer had a fair enough voice: there were some songs that Juliet would rather remained untouched. This was one of them. She held her glass in her hand and stared at the liquid that it contained. Usually she wouldn't drink while she was working, but officially she was off-duty now.
She hated coming to these medical conferences. She always felt out of place as a research scientist as opposed to a practitioner; it felt like high school all over again, and she was outside of the cool clique. She wouldn't have come at all if her ex-husband and current employer hadn't stressed that it would be 'helpful' for her. She knew that his real reasoning was a desire to make sure she was out of sight for a few days - some potential investors were coming to inspect the labs and apparently she didn't give off the right image - but she hadn't protested. She'd packed her suitcase and she'd come. As if the day wasn't bad enough, now she had to listen to a cover of her song.
Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city
Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty
How can you lose?
At least the singer could hold a note, she consoled herself. She was no Petula, but it could be worse. A whole lot worse. Juliet closed her eyes and held onto her drink, allowing that voice and her imagination transport her back to her kitchen at home. Muffins in the oven; dishes in the sink; CD playing happily. She could be far from here, feigning happiness.
She drained the last of her drink and stood up, chasing the sound of the voice and the music through the hotel's rooms. This was a far more expensive place than she'd ever be able to afford herself: the company hosting the event was the one footing the bill. Even so, the extravagant surroundings made her feel guilty and dwarfed. A chandelier dazzled in the foyer and the walls themselves seemed to shimmer and sparkle with gold. She couldn't imagine being able to afford this kind of luxury.
When she found the source of the singer, a blonde female in the hotel lounge, the rest of the hotel's riches paled. The woman's hair was lighter than gold and looked soft and luxuriant as it flowed down the bare skin of her back. The pale pink dress she wore had no back, but a series of soft straps held the dress over her shoulder blades instead. Her skin was milky-pale, almost white, and when she looked across the disinterested audience her eyes were such a shocking shade of blue that Juliet's eyebrows rose.
She was beautiful, and Juliet felt her cheeks colour the moment that thought crossed her mind.
She took an empty seat, the only person in the room paying close attention to the entertainment. She couldn't take her eyes off of her, even as Downtown finished and the singer paused for the lacklustre applause before the piano player brought them into a new tune.
Juliet stayed downstairs in the lounge all evening, despite her plans to take an early shower and head away to bed. The singer and her pianist flowed through a series of old hits, smiling pleasantly and seeming to enjoy themselves as they did so. Even when Juliet was distracted by others from the conference coming to talk to her she kept an ear out for that gentle voice, and she stayed there after they'd left.
When the singer finished her last song, the final note fading, she placed a hand on the microphone and smiled at the few people that stayed behind. "Thank you! I've been Claire Littleton; enjoy your stay."
Australian.
A long way from home, Juliet thought with a dizzying thrill. She watched as Claire moved away from the microphone to talk to her pianist and take a drink from a cup of water sitting on top of his stand-up piano. Juliet watched them while trying to seem as if she wasn't; she couldn't help being fascinated. She couldn't even explain it. This woman was everything that she wasn't, moving with a beautiful but subtle grace. The material of the pink dress she wore looked satiny and soft.
When the pair of blond musicians looked up in her direction, Juliet distracted herself quickly. She wished that she'd brought a drink through here so that she at least had some kind of excuse for wasting hours upon the couch, but she had nothing. The others who remained in the room were in large and rowdy groups: businessmen, she'd guess from the expensive suits and boring jokes that boomed from them. Nervously, she tucked her hair behind her ear and knew that there was a blush colouring her cheeks.
It only intensified when she heard footsteps coming towards her. She made an attempt to stand up, ready to go back to her room, but before she could retreat - flee - she found the young woman standing right in front of her. The sight of her up-close was more breathtaking than it had been from afar; the blue of her eyes made Juliet think of every cliché in the world. The ocean and the sky and electricity.
"Did you like the show?" Claire asked; warm, friendly, unintimidating. She raised one delicate hand to brush her hair behind her ear, and Juliet's eyes tracked the movement without even noticing she was doing it.
"It was nice," Juliet admitted. She wished she knew how to explain the buzzing of warm anxiety in the pit of her belly. She hadn't felt like this since high school. "You have a really nice voice."
"Yeah," Claire agreed. "'Nice'. What's your name?"
"Juliet. I'm here with the medical conference."
Claire held her gaze with bright confidence and interest; Juliet hadn't had anyone look at her like this for what felt like eternity. Claire looked at her like she saw her. No one did that other than her sister, and this was different. This was so different.
"Having fun?" Claire asked.
"I don't think I'm supposed to," Juliet confessed. "Conferences aren't 'fun' so much as they're… 'necessary'." She sounded terrible, didn't she? She sounded boring and pathetic and old; sometimes she looked in the mirror and felt a thousand years older than she really was. Every time she allowed someone else to walk over her it added an extra year onto her shoulders. She wished that she could find a way to ice over her heart and block it all out forever. Life would be so much easier that way.
"Yikes," Claire said, and Juliet wished that she could change the subject altogether. "Are you a doctor, then?"
"I'm a scientist." She smiled sheepishly: nobody ever expected that answer from her. "A fertility specialist."
"Wow, that's amazing," Claire said - her eyes dazzled and Juliet knew that she had to be feigning her reaction but it still made her smile become a little prouder. "I know it's late, but can I buy you a drink?"
The question was rushed out, lacking the rest of Claire's confidence. Behind those words Juliet could hear the woman not the singer: a lack of showmanship.
"Sure," she answered, nodding. "Will your friend be alright with that?"
Claire looked over her shoulder to where the pianist was very carefully pretending that he wasn't watching them. Protective, Juliet thought. She would have liked to know somebody like that; it would have been nice to have someone who cared about her in that way.
Claire's smile was bright and she reached for Juliet's hand to help her to her feet. "Yeah, don't worry about Charlie. He likes to watch out for me."
"Is he your brother?" Juliet asked. There was a certain resemblance there, she supposed, but it was likely that it was all down to the hair and nothing further.
Claire laughed, a quiet, girlish sound. Juliet watched her, unable to take her eyes away. She's beautiful. The thought popped into her mind of its own accord and once it was there it stuck like a fly in a spider's web. She didn't know what it meant and maybe she didn't want to know - but it was true. It was objectively and completely true. Claire had an otherworldly beauty that most women could only dream of, but she managed to be the girl next door at the same time.
"No, he's not. He's just a friend," she said. She pressed her lips together while smiling in a way that looked almost coy. Innocent. Juliet could have watched that expression forever without getting bored. "I don't have any siblings, actually. Your typical spoilt lonely child."
"You don't seem spoilt to me," Juliet said as they walked back to the bar together. It was getting late; Juliet supposed they'd be closing up soon, and the bartender was cleaning down the surfaces when they entered. He perked up when he saw Claire, though, and was behind the bar in an instant for them.
Drink in hand, Juliet felt a little safer when she tried to talk to Claire. Though the blush didn't fade from her face and only re-ignited every time that Claire smiled in amusement, she didn't fall over her words. They seemed to fall into place more easily than they had in a long time.
In her mind, the Fact File on Claire Littleton began to expand as she asked curious questions and drank in the answers. She was from Australia originally but had come to the US when 'something' had happened with her mother; she had a very young son that Charlie helped to raise; she'd been singing since she was a teenager; the job with the hotel was only supposed to be for a year but had turned into two and looked as if it might turn into more.
"Do you write anything yourself?" Juliet asked. It had been covers all evening and nothing but that.
Claire shook her head. "Charlie does, but not me. He's the real talent, I guess."
"I don't think so," Juliet said impulsively - impulses in Claire's presence seemed to have a way of being acted upon. Juliet wasn't used to that; she didn't know what to make of it. Every new action was usually pushed upon her or weighed and measured first. Not now. Not around this stranger. Claire's gaze caught her own, an endless blue that even the deepest ocean couldn't aspire to, and Juliet found herself having to soon look down at her glass to escape the intensity of it. She'd hardly had a single sip but she still held onto it tightly. It was keeping her there at the bar, and she somehow knew that this was where she needed to be. "You have a wonderful voice, Claire."
She nearly jumped with shock when she felt Claire's delicate hand on her shoulder. It was such a small point of contact, her palm and small fingers, but the heat was soon all that Juliet could think about. "Thank you," Claire said warmly, but she didn't withdraw her hand afterwards. It stayed in the same place, but her fingers traced light promises onto Juliet's skin through the cheap material of her blouse. "I like your voice too."
"You haven't heard me sing," Juliet pointed out.
"I like listening to you talk," Claire said firmly. "I feel like you don't do it very often."
Juliet glanced up for only a moment before the bundle of nerves that twisted in the pit of her stomach made her look down again. "I'm a good listener," she answered.
"A little too good, if you ask me." Claire's hand on her shoulder was still a point of warmth and comfort. "I think you're pretty amazing, Juliet, and I've only known you for an hour. Think about how wonderful the people who really know you must think you are."
Juliet gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Maybe it's because you've only just met me that you think I'm…" She allowed her words to trail away as she felt an irrational tightness in her throat. Claire's hand left her shoulder to tuck her hair behind her ear for her; the touch was all too soft and all too careful, as if Claire was trying to look after her. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry; I shouldn't be doing this."
"I'm glad you are," Claire told her. "I think maybe it's good for you."
Juliet shook her head but found that she couldn't form a single word, too focused on not allowing herself to cry as she thought about how no one had been as kind or attentive to her as this stranger was being in years. She had never anticipated her evening ending here, nor would she have been able to predict the words that came next from Claire's mouth. "Would you like to go up to your room?" Claire asked. "With me, I mean. Nothing has to happen - I mean, I wouldn't do that - but the bar's kinda closing up and I don't want to say goodbye yet."
Juliet lifted her head to see that the chairs around the bar area had been hung upside down upon the tables and that several of the lights had already been switched off. The bartender had a large, black parka on already and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. When he caught Juliet's eye he smiled sheepishly and she looked away because her vision was still blurred.
"Are you sure?" she asked Claire. "You don't have to come with me. It's fine."
She didn't need Claire to be nice to her; it'd be easier if she wasn't. It would be easier to hide away from the world if she didn't have a beautiful woman at her side telling her that she didn't have to.
"I was the one that suggested it, remember? I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to come," Claire said.
She wanted to protest more - manners, etiquette, fear - but she didn't. She gathered her bag and stood up from the bar stool, hunting for her room key in her purse. "I'm on the second floor," she said.
When they arrived in her room Claire made a quiet sound of awe as they walked inside. "I've never actually been in one of the suites before," she said. "They're amazing."
"Widmore Industries is paying for it," Juliet said. "Not me."
Maybe that was why Claire was here; maybe she'd mistakenly come to the assumption that Juliet was much richer than she was. Juliet could see how that could happen when she was a guest in a hotel like this, but it wasn't like that. She wasn't like that. Underpaid and under appreciated and under-everything.
Claire only smiled and she didn't leave, instead pacing around the room instead. "It's gorgeous. Maybe I should become a scientist if it gets you perks like this."
"It doesn't usually," Juliet said. "Normally I'm stuck in a lab all day. Even the conferences aren't usually this…" She gestured vaguely as she tried to summon the right word.
"Needlessly extravagant?" Claire suggested.
Juliet smiled. "Something like that."
"Must be nice," Claire commented all the same. "Getting spoilt, getting this kind of luxury… Sounds like you work hard enough all the time that you deserve something like this once in a while."
Juliet floundered, unsure of what to say. The room was amazing, that was true, but she found that the only thing in it that had her attention was Claire herself. Claire was like nobody she'd ever seen before. She'd been unable to wretch her attention from Claire since she'd first set eyes on her and since the cover version of her favourite song had penetrated through her gloomy mood. Here, standing in her bedroom, Claire looked more enchanting than ever, and it left Juliet unable to understand what was going on. "Why are you here, Claire?" she asked, head tilting to the side. "Why… Me?"
Of all the people, Claire was here with her. It made no sense.
Claire's supernaturally blue eyes watched her for a few long moments that made Juliet feel like one her own slides being watched under a microscope. "Because," Claire said, "you looked sad. I get that."
You have nothing to be sad about, Juliet thought, but she didn't say it: the words froze because of the expression on Claire's face, too old and too worn for her youth. Claire was so young yet she already had a child to look after with the biological father nowhere in sight; she was working as a lounge singer despite having the sweetest voice Juliet had heard in years; and, most importantly, she'd decided to approach Juliet of all people. Someone with any other options wouldn't have done that, would they?
"I thought you could maybe do with some company," Claire explained. She shrugged as if it was nothing, but in her pale pink dress the movement looked graceful and fluid, too well-planned to be natural.
Juliet thought, unexpectedly, that maybe Claire was just as nervous and broken as she was, underneath it all. "I'm glad you thought that," she said, though it took all the limited courage she possessed to dredge those words from her mouth. "It's true."
She didn't like to admit to her vulnerabilities so openly. Her behaviour screamed her faults and weak points all too loudly without the need to state it bluntly.
With Claire, she could.
With Claire, it didn't scare her.
"It's true for me too," Claire admitted with a smile that seemed sheepish and self-deprecating. "And you were paying attention all evening. No one does that."
"You noticed?"
"Yeah. Like I said: no one does that. Not usually." Claire smiled when Juliet felt blood rush to her cheeks. "So I had to ask myself why there was a beautiful woman sitting alone watching me all night instead of wrapping men around her fingers."
Juliet gave a startled laugh, unable to hold herself back.
"It's true, you know. One of these days you're going to realise it." Claire moved forward until she was able to take Juliet's hand, her palm small and gentle. She looked at Juliet with an impish glint in her gaze. "And believe me, Juliet - once you've realised how strong you are, nothing's going to get in your way. Nothing and no one."
Juliet wanted to say something to her: she wanted to protest or thank her or say that wasn't true and couldn't be. Her brain froze, however. It froze and then melted altogether as Claire placed her other hand on Juliet's cheek and leaned in close until Juliet felt the soft, sweet pressure of Claire's lips against her own. Her eyes slipped closed and her hand squeezed Claire's where they were still linked. The way Claire kissed her was nothing like how Edmund had: Claire offered; Edmund had taken.
Her lips were soft and the kiss was short. Too short, before Claire stepped away again. There was a blush to her face now and she giggled nervously before she tucked a lock of her light blonde hair behind her ear. "I should let you get some rest. I'm sorry."
"You could stay," Juliet suggested. "If you wanted to…"
"Not tonight," Claire said. "You're upset. I upset you. I won't take advantage, but… How long are you gonna be here?"
"Two more nights," Juliet said. After that she was back to the laboratory, back to her work, back to her life: she would return to invisibility and she would never have anyone look at her the way that Claire did, not ever again.
"I'm singing again tomorrow night." Claire's smile twisted playfully again. Juliet could see the white hint of her teeth and a flash of how those would feel nipping at her neck nearly made it impossible to focus on what Claire said next. "Will I see you there?"
Juliet nodded and knew that she'd clear herself of all obligations if she'd made any. "Of course," she answered.
The pleased expression on Claire's face sent a warm buzz throughout Juliet's body. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," Claire said. She stepped forward again and placed her hand on Juliet's arm, kissing the side of her mouth so lightly that it was enough to make a longing sigh escape from Juliet's lips. "Sleep well, Juliet."
She swept out of the room and as Juliet watched her go she drank in the smooth skin that the back of her dress revealed. She'd never met anyone like Claire before - someone so normal and so much more than normal at once - and she'd never felt this instant attraction for another woman either. Now thoughts of Claire and only Claire danced in her mind, and with Claire's warm words to back her up Juliet knew she'd be so much more confident with her colleagues at tomorrow's events.