Lost Fic: Getting to Know All About You (Sawyer/Juliet)

[ozmissage]

Title: Getting to Know All About You
Pairing: Sawyer/Juliet
Rating: PG
Words: 1,748
Disclaimer: Not mine. Title adapted from “Getting to Know You” from The King and I. (Also not mine.)
Setting: Early Dharma days.
Summary: Sawyer’s tired of doing all the talking.
A/N: Written forcrickets impromptu multi fandom imPromptathon in answer to the prompt Sawyer/Juliet-I Never.

It’s been a month since the island left them stranded in Dharmaville and Sawyer still doesn’t know a damn thing about Juliet, not anything worth knowing anyway.

He’s picked up the little things. She takes two sugars in her coffee, she has awful taste in music, and she doesn’t like it when you act like a smartass after midnight. But these things don’t exactly make a person. He wants to know where she came from, how the hell she ended up here, and why a seemingly nice girl like her has such good aim with a rifle.

He’s a con man for Christ’s sake; he’s spent his whole life figuring out what makes a woman tick. There was a time not so long ago he could get a girl to tell him her social security number just by whispering the right sweet nothing in her ear. Juliet doesn’t work like that. She keeps all of her cards to herself.

It’s not just that he can’t crack her; it’s that she’s reading him like one of those damn Stephen King novels she keeps by her bed. He’s not sure how it happened, but he’s developed the unfortunate habit of spilling his guts to her every night while they sit together on her front porch.

They sit there side by side on that rickety porch swing and he talks. He talks about Tennessee, he talks about cons, and he talks about walking the train tracks on Friday nights with the other boys when he was a kid, he talks about how he was always the last one to jump off the tracks when the train came around the corner. He tells her how he could feel the heat coming off the engine right before he moved.

And he talks about Kate. Not often, but every now and then she comes up and he knows he gets this far away look in his eye and his voice gets wistful and it pisses him off, but she never says anything about it. She just listens with this calm expression on her face, only talking when she’s got just the right thing to say.

He can’t explain why he does it. He just sits down and the words start tumbling out one after another like he’s been saving them up for some long winter that’s just come to an end. It’s unsettling, made more so by the fact that she won’t tell him one damn thing in return.

He’s tried to pull things out of her, but she always shuts him down. It seems like it’s always “getting late” when the conversation turns to her or there’s some fascinating story about a monkey wrench that she has to tell him right now.

Well, he’s had enough. It’s not right for her to know all of these things about him, hell she already had a head start with her little file. At this point she knows everything from his shoe size to how he spent his last night in Sydney. He’s decided he’s going to make this street a two way whether she likes it or not.

Years of getting people to tell him things they didn’t want to has taught Sawyer that the best way to loosen lips is with a bottle of liquor. This afternoon he’s procured a bottle of Dharma brand whiskey and two shot glasses. He’s a man with a plan, a plan that involves getting Juliet to engage in a bit of quid pro quo.

He makes the short walk to Juliet’s as slowly as possible. He knows she’s waiting for him and the thought makes him feel good. At least he’s got something on her; whether she admits it or not she looks forward to these chats.

When he gets within shouting distance he puts on his most charming grin and approaches the porch steps with a swagger.

“Evening, Blondie,” he says.

She looks at him questioningly. She knows something’s up. She nods at the bottle tucked under his arm.

“Are we celebrating?”

“Nah,” he replies. “I thought we’d play a little game.”

She tilts her head ever so slightly and flashes him a suspicious smile. Sawyer holds her gaze. First rule of poker: don’t blink first. After a moment she shrugs and Sawyer climbs the steps feeling satisfied with himself. Round one goes to the con man.

“So what kind of game are we playing?” she asks as she takes the bottle from him.

“A drinking game.”

“I gathered that much; which one?”

Sawyer ignores the apprehension in her voice as he replies, “I Never.”

“James…”

He cuts her off before she can finish her sentence. He can see that she’s not keen on this idea, but he’s never played a game of I Never without coming away with an interesting tidbit about his companion.

“One person says something like I never rode a horse. If you’ve taken a pony for a spin you take a drink, if you haven’t you don’t, simple as that.”

“I know how to play James,” Juliet says.

There’s something about the way that she’s arching her eyebrows that’s making him feel uncomfortable. He clears his throat and tries to sound charming when he speaks.

“Alright then, you can start.”

Juliet pours them each a shot of whiskey, sloshing a bit over the side as she passes one to Sawyer. He leans back against the swing, giving them a little push with his foot as he waits for her to start. He wonders what she’ll go for first and he tries valiantly not to think about the last time he played this game.

She’s quiet for so long Sawyer begins to think she’s forgotten how to play.

“You gonna start or not?”

Juliet smirks.

“I never suggested playing a drinking game with someone because I was too much of a chicken to ask them what I wanted know when they were sober.”

Sawyer let out a frustrated sigh as Juliet began to giggle. Looks like round two is going to the lady.

“So I take it you don’t want to play?”

“No James, I don’t want to play a childish game invented by bored college students to get into each other’s pants.”

“Fine by me, Sweetheart,” Sawyer says as he moves to leave the swing.

Juliet rolls her eyes and catches his sleeve.

“I was thinking we could just get drunk instead.”

Sawyer can’t help but grin as he eases himself back down. “Fair enough.”

“You owe me a drink, Cowboy,” she says wryly.

Sawyer winks before downing his shot quickly. He grimaces a little at the burn. Juliet lifts her glass to him before following suit.

He pours them both a second drink. He can see her watching him out of the corner of her eye.

“If there was something you wanted to know why didn’t you try asking me instead of plying me with liquor? Not that I mind the liquor part.”

Sawyer snorts.

“I’ve been asking. You’re not exactly forthcoming, Blondie. I spend an awful lot of time talking and not a hell of a lot of time listening, and frankly I’m all talked out.”

Juliet takes a deep breath and downs her second shot before she speaks.

“I don’t talk about myself because it reminds me of before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I came here. It’s been three years for me, James, three years since I set foot anywhere that wasn’t this island. There are things I don’t even remember anymore and the rest of it…well, let’s just say Ben didn’t encourage us to talk about our past. He preferred us to stay focused on the present instead.”

“I bet,” Sawyer says roughly.

They sit together silently for awhile, just drinking and rocking, before Sawyer just can’t take it anymore. He gets that it’s painful for her to talk about her past, but it’s no picnic for him either. She owes him something.

“Look, I ain’t asking you to tell me all the dirty little details. I just want to know something small. You’ve got to admit you’ve got me at a disadvantage. You didn’t come with a file.”

“A file is just facts, trivia. I know about you James, I don’t know you.”

“That’s crap, Blondie. I’m willing to bet you know me better than...” he pauses as a realization hits him. He looks at her uneasily.

“What is it?” she prompts him.

“You know me better than anybody,” he says softly.

Neither one of them is willing to meet the other’s eyes, but they both know it’s true. The thought makes Sawyer feel strange. A little angry…a little something else, mostly he wants to know how the hell this happened. He’s so lost in thought that the sound of her voice shocks him when she speaks.

“I was born in Colorado, but I grew up in Miami. My parents divorced when I was nine. I have a big sister named Rachel, but I always felt like the older one. I was in the science club when I was in high school and I spent most of my freshman year hiding from the cheerleaders who thought it was fun to stuff my gym clothes in the toilet. I’m a fertility doctor and I used to think I was a damn good one. One time I made a male mouse pregnant. It didn’t carry to term. I was married once. It didn’t last. Thank God. I came to this island because I thought I could help the women here and because it sounded like an adventure and at the time I liked that idea. I regret it every moment of every day,” she stops for a second before finishing.

“And I really do love Petula Clark, so I would appreciate it if you would stop hiding my record. Is that enough?”

Sawyer smiles.

“For now.”

She laughs and takes a long draw straight from the bottle. Sawyer watches her and tries to hold onto to all of the facts she had just thrown at him.

“You really like Petula Clark?”

“Yep.”

“I thought you were just playing that record to torture me.”

“No,” Juliet says slyly. “I play the Abba record to torture you.”

“I knew it…” Sawyer hisses. He tries to look angry, but he’s in too good of a mood to fake it. He’s beginning to see Juliet Burke take shape in his mind and he has to admit that so far he likes what he sees.

Comments

[afishwithawish.livejournal.com]

LOVELY! ^__^ I like the way you laid out the story! :D Thank you for sharing!

[ozmissage.livejournal.com]

Aww, thank you!