Since you're gone my empty arms have nothing left to hold

Title: Half Of My Heart
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairing: Juliet, Miles, Sawyer (pre Sawyer/Juliet)
Words: 1330
Summary: “Is someone having an existential crisis?” Miles asks as he sits where Sawyer had sat last time they were here, wearing one of those hideous jumpsuits, and Juliet lets out a small breath of relief.
Spoilers: up until 5x08.
Disclaimer: nothing is mine. Really.
A/N: written for former queen ozmissage at the lostsquee luau. She wanted ladies, especially Juliet. I was brainstorming and Miles decided that he wanted a say, too, and this came up. Er, I hope it's to your liking? And sorry for the lateness. Title from John Mayer.

The two weeks she gave him are almost over and she doesn’t know what to do.

She had been so sure about this, about leaving. It isn’t a question of ending up in the seventies, it’s a question of wanting to be done with this piece of rock. Then again, she read his file some decades ago, technically; it isn’t what you’d call surprising if out of everyone she ended up stranded here with for good, it’d be Sawyer. Or James. However she should call him. He says he likes James better, these days. She kind of likes that better, too.

Then again, one would have assumed that he’d try to con her into staying for some reason, but what she’s positive of is that he really isn’t. He’s perfectly sincere now as he was when he got the two weeks deal out of her, and now she just doesn’t know.

Juliet has been burned already enough since setting foot here and she isn’t looking forward to repeating the experience anytime soon. Also, she already lost enough to Kate Austen once and she really would avoid repeating that experience, too, in all honesty.

She sits on the submarine dock and tries to decide what the hell she’s going to do now.

It’s not like she has to leave now, there’s a submarine coming and leaving each month, but there’s a little voice at the back of her mind telling her that if she doesn’t go now then she will end up tangled someway (again) and she won’t ever manage to go.

Also, Juliet would like to think that she knows better than basing her decisions on someone else’s benefit.

Still, there’s something between her and Sawyer, no, James, which is… well. Nice. She can’t find another way to put it, but nice is good enough for her. Nice is underrated, and she can say that she does like him, after getting to know him and not just reading his file. He’s good to spend time with, he makes her laugh most times, he doesn’t seem to be aiming at anything if not just having a good time with her and getting her to have a good time, too, and she thinks she’d miss him if she just went.

But is that even enough? They’re friends. They’ve been for less than a month. She has been wanting to get out of here for three years.

Math definitely says that she should leave.

She shakes her head and stares out at sea for enough time that she loses count, and then she almost gasps aloud when she hears footsteps on the dock.

“Is someone having an existential crisis?” Miles asks as he sits where Sawyer had sat last time they were here, wearing one of those hideous jumpsuits, and Juliet lets out a small breath of relief.

“I wouldn’t go as far as saying that,” she answers, glancing at him before moving her eyes towards the submarine again.

“Seems to me like you’re totally in the middle of it, but hey. Your problem, not mine.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was just taking my nice evening walk and I bumped into you. Isn’t that a nice chance?”

Juliet doesn’t miss that he’s staring at the submarine, too.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks, and he shakes his head in return.

“Hell, no. I wasn’t even fucking born in 1974. What the hell would I do? Right, I could go see Led Zeppelin or shit, but that’d be it. I think I’m staying here, if you don’t mind. Daniel is leaving, not me.”

Juliet nods at that, and she doesn’t miss Miles looking not exactly pleased. He starts talking again before she can inquire.

“Nah, I’m not having a crying fit about that. Please. It’s just weird that of all the people I came with, the only one who’s left here is Charlotte who’s fucking five or six. Seriously. This is so crazy,” he mutters, and she can only agree with him.

“So, are you leaving with Daniel, too?”

“I don’t know,” she answers sincerely, and he raises an eyebrow at that.

“You seemed pretty much set, two weeks ago.”

“I was,” she agrees, and then he rolls his eyes like he just knows what’s going through her head.

“It’s about Jim, isn’t it?”

“What?” she snaps back, and well, Miles is adapting to the whole LaFleur act quickly, isn’t he?

“Oh, please. You didn’t leave two weeks ago because he asked you, and now you don’t know if you want to go because something which I really don’t want to know about happened between then and now.”

“And how are you so sure of that?”

Miles leans forward, his elbows on his knees, tilting his head just slightly. “When you talk to dead people that might have been silent for too long of a time, you need to be able to guess what people want to hear. I’m not that bad at reading them.”

“That’s fair enough. And what’s your opinion of everything?”

Miles stands up, his face looking a strange kind of fake-disgusted.

“Since when my life became caring and sharing in the true Barbra Streisand spirit? Seriously, do whatever the hell you want. But I’d take into account that if you go then you’re on your own and you probably couldn’t get back, if needed. Then again, maybe seeing Led Zeppelin live might be worth it,” he ends, and then he disappears in the night.

Juliet looks down at her crossed legs and lets out a breath, thinking about what Miles said all over again.

It’s not like he wasn’t right, when he said that it was about Sawyer.

And it’s not like he doesn’t have another point about the rest.

She spends another three hours on the dock, just thinking.

--

“So, ready for the real world?” Sawyer asks the next morning, as she sits on the porch of the house where he’s staying for the moment. His voice is just slightly resigned, but the way he speaks doesn’t suggest that he’d try further to make her stay.

Which is what everyone asked of her, all the time, she reasons. Everyone except him. He asked for two weeks, he got them, he isn’t trying to force her further. He’s just looking at her with a half-smile that is mostly encouraging and nothing else, his hair falling a bit over his eyes, and she stands up and comes closer before answering.

“I think… I think I could have your back for another month,” she says, and for a second his eyes widen, obviously not having expected that answer.

“You… you sure about that? Really, you don’t need to. I can watch out for myself,” he says, his tone low, and that’s when she decides that she can wait another while before leaving. The real world sounds good, but the real world without anyone else doesn’t sound as great.

“I can take my decisions for myself,” she answers, her voice calm and collected, and it does feel good to do it. And there’s something about the way his lips curl up at her answer that tells her she wasn’t wrong to delay. Even if they stay friends.

“Well, now ain’t that just nice.” His voice is still low, but sounding slightly relieved. And then he just kicks the door behind him open. “Also, y’know, you don’t have to hang out here. I can fix you some breakfast, considerin’ that it’s fucking early and that you look like you could use it.”

And yes, she could. Also because she hasn’t slept much. And he usually doesn’t burn anything he puts on a stove.

“If you ask so nicely, James,” she says, smiling back, and when he raises an eyebrow and moves so that the way is free, she gets inside.

It’s nice, being like this with someone, she thinks as she sits in his kitchen and he starts opening cupboards. She could even get used to it.

End.