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Title: One Of Them
Fandom: LOST
Pairing: Jacket (Juliet/Jack)
Rating: NC 17 for major hotness of the SEX variety, language, and general naughtiness
Words: 1,837
Warnings: Spoilers for any and all of LOST S3, and speculation that could be spoilery. Y'know...if it actually HAPPENS. Also general spoilers for 3.06: I DO.
A/N: Done for the TAKE OFF THE JACKET PORN BATTLE (prompt: scrubs), and will not be the only fic I write for this little foofooraw, because I AM GOING TO BEAT
lollobrigida!!!!! Ahem. :P...also unbeta'd, so all mistakes and general suckiness are mine alone.
For Jacket fangyrl
laura4lad, aka MUSE GYRL, or She Who Rocks My Socks Overall. Also for my fandom enabler,
lollobrigida, who I BLAME MY ENTIRE FANDOM EXISTENCE ON. YOU HEARD ME.
And for the record? This is based on the seeming law of nature that anyone and everyone who works or is closely related to the medical field? Yeah...you know your pajama wardrobe consists of at least ONE pair of scrubs...tops, bottoms, I don't care, YOU KNOW I'M RIGHT. And yes, scrubs means both the whole outfit, or just the pants.
* * * * *
It wasn’t until he saw the scrubs that he felt that maybe she’d been right all along...she wasn’t one of Them.
For nearly three weeks after the surgery, Jack was free of the tank, sentenced instead to endure the indignities of being kept in an outdoor cage, while at the same time reveling in the joys of sunlight and fresh air again. It was almost enough to make him feel human after so long in the dark, save for the harsh, inadequate neon lighting in the Hydra station.
It was after three weeks that the noise came...a distant, staccato sound that was so unexpected, so alien after so many months that he didn’t recognize it.
He wouldn’t realize what he’d heard for another two days...not until Ben emerged from his sickbed long enough to deliver Jack’s ultimate punishment for trying to double-cross them all.
The noise he’d heard had been choppers...rescue had come and gone.
He had little choice when Ben made the offer...they brought Jack back to the camp, showed him the abandoned fires and the few possessions they’d left behind...along with him.
Jack returned to the other island with Them, taking the only place he had left. It gratified him, a little, how eager they were to take him into the fold. The seemed more than simply welcoming...they were desperate.
It didn’t take Jack long to figure out why. They needed him...not just a doctor, not even just a surgeon, but someone with trauma experience. These people were complacent and ill prepared for disaster, a thing that Jack had grown to know intimately. He and catastrophe were becoming old friends...a fact they were grateful for.
In a way, Michael had been right...these people were easy pickings. What they may have lacked in fortitude, they made up for in cunning, but the fact was that they were far too dependent on subterfuge and camouflage as a means of protection against everything. They weren’t merely arrogant, they were weak...too ready for every contingency, yet not ready enough where it counted.
The fact was proven to him the night she showed up at the door of his new house, pounding urgently at what Jack estimated to be two AM.
When he opened the door, Juliet was there, hair loose and messy, cheeks flushed with the remnants of sleep...clad only in a white spaghetti strap tank top and a pair of pale blue scrubs, knotted loosely and riding low on her hips.
The same kind he was wearing.
“We need you. It’s Pickett...he’s not breathing.”
He followed her to the small, local medical station they had set up...independent of the Hydra station, this was a building located within the housing development. Treating Pickett was relatively easy...nothing but a severe allergic reaction, but finding the allergen was going to be difficult. He took a small, sadistic bit of pleasure on Sawyer’s behalf in withholding a steroid shot that would open up his lungs and sent Sun his silent thanks, wherever she might be, when he sent Alex into the jungle for some eucalyptus.
“We’re going to need some new supplies.” he informed Juliet quietly after he’d finished with Pickett and sent him home to rest, waiting to wash his hands. “Stronger antihistamines...more steroids, and I want a nebulizer on hand in case something like this happens again.”
She nodded quietly as they switched places by the sink. “It’ll take a little time, but we can get it.”
“We don’t have a lot of time. You say he’s got no history of allergies...if he hasn’t encountered anything new, he could have developed an allergy from prolonged exposure to something on the island. Until I can figure out what, he needs those meds, or next time we might not be so lucky.”
Once again, she simply nodded...taking orders, just as she was supposed to. For a few long moments there was silence as Jack washed his hands and she dried hers. Glancing over, his eye was again drawn to the waistband of her scrubs, where her tank top rode up to bare a pale, flawless strip of flesh to his gaze.
“Guess you really are a doctor.” The remark left his mouth before he could stop it.
Steely blue eyes met his, a small smile twisting at her lips before they wandered to take in his own matching attire, complete with the white t-shirt he’d thrown on to answer his front door. “The only breed of human capable of sleeping comfortably in surgical scrubs...yep. That’s us.”
The crack made him laugh, and the fact that she made him laugh...*really* laugh, one he felt as it shook him lightly, gripped him hard and actually felt good...made him second-guess a lot of things. He hated himself for it...hated her for making him do it simply by being genuine...
...and yet he couldn’t help but doubt. Even Pickett, laying on the infirmary’s exam table had been one of Them...operating on Ben, he’d been operating on an Other...but Juliet wasn’t one of Them. She had been...she was good at pretending, but standing there in surgical scrubs and stating that simple fact of reality that only another doctor would know and understand somehow changed her.
Reaching for a towel, he dried his hands quickly, reaching out to catch her wrist just as she was about to turn and leave. “Juliet.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder, and he saw it...that split-second reaction, her throat bobbing as she swallowed a little too hard. “Jack?...”
It was such an easy transition, watching as she transformed from one of Them into a woman...a beautiful woman he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of since the first time he’d seen her from within the confines of the shark tank. He hated himself for wanting her...for liking her with her delicate beauty and her lovely, flawed smiles...a little too small, twisted in a peculiar fashion by the odd, alluring shape of her lips. He despised her for her subdued, charming sense of humor and unique vulnerability blended so perfectly with strength that it was easy to underestimate her...loathed the respect that built for her with every passing day.
None of it mattered then as he backed her against the door of the small medical station, locking it as he gazed into her eyes for a moment before bending to kiss her, ignoring where they were and who she was. She wasn’t Juliet...he wasn’t Jack. They were no one...just a man and a woman. Just doctors...just people connected by a slender, common thread that was insignificant, yet important to both of them.
She was still for only a moment before she was kissing him back, her hands hesitant and a little shy as they rested on his chest, running up and down lightly to savor the feel of warm cotton over hard muscle beneath her palms before she finally let them run over his belly and up under the hem, fingers trailing over the whorls of dark hair that covered his chest and abdomen.
No words were spoken as their clothes fell away...Jack was never so grateful for the convenient drawstrings on surgical scrubs as he slid hers off her hips. There wasn’t room enough to do it right...and he didn’t want to use the table Pickett had been on just a few moments before.
In the end, he preferred it this way...kneeling before her with one of her legs thrown over his shoulder as he nibbled and licked a path along her inner thigh, teasing a string of soft curses, high-pitched whimpers and groans of impassioned frustration from her lips before he finally gave her what she wanted, letting his tongue alternate between teasing at her clit and sliding inside her forcefully, driving her deliberately and towards orgasm as his hands caressed her thighs and stomach.
A new edge to the soft sounds of pleasure she was making caused him to roll his eyes up and witness the most erotic thing he’d ever seen: Juliet, her head leaning back against the door, hair loose over her bare shoulders, eyes heavy with desire while her hands cupped and caress her own breasts...kneading a little bit more harshly than he would have done, fingers teasing and pinching her own nipples, lightly but still a little harder than Jack ever would have dared. Every touch elicited another sound from her as her hips rocked against the rhythm of his tongue as he quickened his pace, relentlessly driving her moans from her harder and faster as her voice rose to a soft cry when she finally came, body clenching and spine bowing with the force of her orgasm.
He caught her as she sagged to the floor, more than a little surprised when she pushed him on his back and crawled over him, movements slow and lazy with the languid satisfaction of a contented cat. In that moment she resembled a feline...a great golden lioness, blue eyes dark and sated, but still burning with an inner spark, all careless grace and deliberate intent as she ravaged his body with lips and hands and tongue, learning every plane of muscle and expanse of skin like a blind woman learning to read Braille.
And when she finally took him into her mouth, tongue flicking along the underside of his shaft, Jack quit thinking coherently altogether.
Reaching down to tangle his fingers in her hair, it was all he could do to keep himself in check...but as she teased and worked him with both hands and tongue, licking and sucking even as she caressed his stomach, ran her tongue over his head, added the most careful hint of teeth to her ministrations, Jack realized that this had absolutely nothing to do with keeping himself in check.
So he released her head, planted his hands on the ground, and allowed himself to thrust into her mouth, letting the feel of warm, wet heat overwhelm him as she drove him closer and closer to the brink with the same relentless persistence he had used with her. When he finally came, it was hard and fast, a white-hot rush that left him shaking as she took him all in, urging tremor after tremor of pleasure from him with lashes of her tongue against his softening cock until he was completely spent.
Afterwards they simply lay side by side, heads turned to look into each other’s eyes...and as they just lay there, staring, Jack made his decision as he got slowly to his feet, found their clothes, and handed Juliet hers after helping her to her feet so they could dress and go home.
It was Jack against Them, even now...but whoever she may have been, wherever her allegiances might end up...for the moment, Juliet had ceased to be anything but Juliet.
Fandom: LOST
Pairing: Jacket (Juliet/Jack)
Rating: NC 17 for major hotness of the SEX variety, language, and general naughtiness
Words: 1,837
Warnings: Spoilers for any and all of LOST S3, and speculation that could be spoilery. Y'know...if it actually HAPPENS. Also general spoilers for 3.06: I DO.
A/N: Done for the TAKE OFF THE JACKET PORN BATTLE (prompt: scrubs), and will not be the only fic I write for this little foofooraw, because I AM GOING TO BEAT
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For Jacket fangyrl
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![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
And for the record? This is based on the seeming law of nature that anyone and everyone who works or is closely related to the medical field? Yeah...you know your pajama wardrobe consists of at least ONE pair of scrubs...tops, bottoms, I don't care, YOU KNOW I'M RIGHT. And yes, scrubs means both the whole outfit, or just the pants.
* * * * *
It wasn’t until he saw the scrubs that he felt that maybe she’d been right all along...she wasn’t one of Them.
For nearly three weeks after the surgery, Jack was free of the tank, sentenced instead to endure the indignities of being kept in an outdoor cage, while at the same time reveling in the joys of sunlight and fresh air again. It was almost enough to make him feel human after so long in the dark, save for the harsh, inadequate neon lighting in the Hydra station.
It was after three weeks that the noise came...a distant, staccato sound that was so unexpected, so alien after so many months that he didn’t recognize it.
He wouldn’t realize what he’d heard for another two days...not until Ben emerged from his sickbed long enough to deliver Jack’s ultimate punishment for trying to double-cross them all.
The noise he’d heard had been choppers...rescue had come and gone.
He had little choice when Ben made the offer...they brought Jack back to the camp, showed him the abandoned fires and the few possessions they’d left behind...along with him.
Jack returned to the other island with Them, taking the only place he had left. It gratified him, a little, how eager they were to take him into the fold. The seemed more than simply welcoming...they were desperate.
It didn’t take Jack long to figure out why. They needed him...not just a doctor, not even just a surgeon, but someone with trauma experience. These people were complacent and ill prepared for disaster, a thing that Jack had grown to know intimately. He and catastrophe were becoming old friends...a fact they were grateful for.
In a way, Michael had been right...these people were easy pickings. What they may have lacked in fortitude, they made up for in cunning, but the fact was that they were far too dependent on subterfuge and camouflage as a means of protection against everything. They weren’t merely arrogant, they were weak...too ready for every contingency, yet not ready enough where it counted.
The fact was proven to him the night she showed up at the door of his new house, pounding urgently at what Jack estimated to be two AM.
When he opened the door, Juliet was there, hair loose and messy, cheeks flushed with the remnants of sleep...clad only in a white spaghetti strap tank top and a pair of pale blue scrubs, knotted loosely and riding low on her hips.
The same kind he was wearing.
“We need you. It’s Pickett...he’s not breathing.”
He followed her to the small, local medical station they had set up...independent of the Hydra station, this was a building located within the housing development. Treating Pickett was relatively easy...nothing but a severe allergic reaction, but finding the allergen was going to be difficult. He took a small, sadistic bit of pleasure on Sawyer’s behalf in withholding a steroid shot that would open up his lungs and sent Sun his silent thanks, wherever she might be, when he sent Alex into the jungle for some eucalyptus.
“We’re going to need some new supplies.” he informed Juliet quietly after he’d finished with Pickett and sent him home to rest, waiting to wash his hands. “Stronger antihistamines...more steroids, and I want a nebulizer on hand in case something like this happens again.”
She nodded quietly as they switched places by the sink. “It’ll take a little time, but we can get it.”
“We don’t have a lot of time. You say he’s got no history of allergies...if he hasn’t encountered anything new, he could have developed an allergy from prolonged exposure to something on the island. Until I can figure out what, he needs those meds, or next time we might not be so lucky.”
Once again, she simply nodded...taking orders, just as she was supposed to. For a few long moments there was silence as Jack washed his hands and she dried hers. Glancing over, his eye was again drawn to the waistband of her scrubs, where her tank top rode up to bare a pale, flawless strip of flesh to his gaze.
“Guess you really are a doctor.” The remark left his mouth before he could stop it.
Steely blue eyes met his, a small smile twisting at her lips before they wandered to take in his own matching attire, complete with the white t-shirt he’d thrown on to answer his front door. “The only breed of human capable of sleeping comfortably in surgical scrubs...yep. That’s us.”
The crack made him laugh, and the fact that she made him laugh...*really* laugh, one he felt as it shook him lightly, gripped him hard and actually felt good...made him second-guess a lot of things. He hated himself for it...hated her for making him do it simply by being genuine...
...and yet he couldn’t help but doubt. Even Pickett, laying on the infirmary’s exam table had been one of Them...operating on Ben, he’d been operating on an Other...but Juliet wasn’t one of Them. She had been...she was good at pretending, but standing there in surgical scrubs and stating that simple fact of reality that only another doctor would know and understand somehow changed her.
Reaching for a towel, he dried his hands quickly, reaching out to catch her wrist just as she was about to turn and leave. “Juliet.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder, and he saw it...that split-second reaction, her throat bobbing as she swallowed a little too hard. “Jack?...”
It was such an easy transition, watching as she transformed from one of Them into a woman...a beautiful woman he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of since the first time he’d seen her from within the confines of the shark tank. He hated himself for wanting her...for liking her with her delicate beauty and her lovely, flawed smiles...a little too small, twisted in a peculiar fashion by the odd, alluring shape of her lips. He despised her for her subdued, charming sense of humor and unique vulnerability blended so perfectly with strength that it was easy to underestimate her...loathed the respect that built for her with every passing day.
None of it mattered then as he backed her against the door of the small medical station, locking it as he gazed into her eyes for a moment before bending to kiss her, ignoring where they were and who she was. She wasn’t Juliet...he wasn’t Jack. They were no one...just a man and a woman. Just doctors...just people connected by a slender, common thread that was insignificant, yet important to both of them.
She was still for only a moment before she was kissing him back, her hands hesitant and a little shy as they rested on his chest, running up and down lightly to savor the feel of warm cotton over hard muscle beneath her palms before she finally let them run over his belly and up under the hem, fingers trailing over the whorls of dark hair that covered his chest and abdomen.
No words were spoken as their clothes fell away...Jack was never so grateful for the convenient drawstrings on surgical scrubs as he slid hers off her hips. There wasn’t room enough to do it right...and he didn’t want to use the table Pickett had been on just a few moments before.
In the end, he preferred it this way...kneeling before her with one of her legs thrown over his shoulder as he nibbled and licked a path along her inner thigh, teasing a string of soft curses, high-pitched whimpers and groans of impassioned frustration from her lips before he finally gave her what she wanted, letting his tongue alternate between teasing at her clit and sliding inside her forcefully, driving her deliberately and towards orgasm as his hands caressed her thighs and stomach.
A new edge to the soft sounds of pleasure she was making caused him to roll his eyes up and witness the most erotic thing he’d ever seen: Juliet, her head leaning back against the door, hair loose over her bare shoulders, eyes heavy with desire while her hands cupped and caress her own breasts...kneading a little bit more harshly than he would have done, fingers teasing and pinching her own nipples, lightly but still a little harder than Jack ever would have dared. Every touch elicited another sound from her as her hips rocked against the rhythm of his tongue as he quickened his pace, relentlessly driving her moans from her harder and faster as her voice rose to a soft cry when she finally came, body clenching and spine bowing with the force of her orgasm.
He caught her as she sagged to the floor, more than a little surprised when she pushed him on his back and crawled over him, movements slow and lazy with the languid satisfaction of a contented cat. In that moment she resembled a feline...a great golden lioness, blue eyes dark and sated, but still burning with an inner spark, all careless grace and deliberate intent as she ravaged his body with lips and hands and tongue, learning every plane of muscle and expanse of skin like a blind woman learning to read Braille.
And when she finally took him into her mouth, tongue flicking along the underside of his shaft, Jack quit thinking coherently altogether.
Reaching down to tangle his fingers in her hair, it was all he could do to keep himself in check...but as she teased and worked him with both hands and tongue, licking and sucking even as she caressed his stomach, ran her tongue over his head, added the most careful hint of teeth to her ministrations, Jack realized that this had absolutely nothing to do with keeping himself in check.
So he released her head, planted his hands on the ground, and allowed himself to thrust into her mouth, letting the feel of warm, wet heat overwhelm him as she drove him closer and closer to the brink with the same relentless persistence he had used with her. When he finally came, it was hard and fast, a white-hot rush that left him shaking as she took him all in, urging tremor after tremor of pleasure from him with lashes of her tongue against his softening cock until he was completely spent.
Afterwards they simply lay side by side, heads turned to look into each other’s eyes...and as they just lay there, staring, Jack made his decision as he got slowly to his feet, found their clothes, and handed Juliet hers after helping her to her feet so they could dress and go home.
It was Jack against Them, even now...but whoever she may have been, wherever her allegiances might end up...for the moment, Juliet had ceased to be anything but Juliet.