A/N I wrote these today whilst extremely bored at college. They're just ten short paragraphs about Sawyer & Juliet. I may use some of these ideas in my story "New Beginnings" (which i will hopefully be updating later tonight), so if you read that and recognize anything, this is where the idea has stemmed from! :)

He comes home a lot later than either anticipated. He moves about their house carefully in the darkness, being oh so careful not to make a sound as he enters their bedroom. She's fast asleep, her face buried in his pillow, on his side of the bed. He strips down to his boxers, barely taking his eyes off her, when it suddenly occurs to him that he even has a side of the bed and he smiles, despite himself, sliding into the bed next to her. She turns in her sleep, letting go of the pillow and snuggling into his chest. She fits there now, and he couldn't imagine falling asleep any other way. It's only then, as he lies awake in the darkness that he gets why they have sides of the bed. He knows he won't sleep that well, but she looks too peaceful to wake.

They don't say it every day. They don't need to, but every now and again, she's quieter than usual; and he knows she's thinking about her life, whether it be the one they're living together, or the one she had before she got the island. Those are the days when he pulls her close, kisses her temple and smiles into her hair.

"I love you."

She loves it when he's cheeky, but as she pulls the batch of burnt muffins from the oven, she throws him a look which warns him she's not in the mood for his quips. He takes the hint, and instead saunters over to her, getting so close to her face she can feel his breath and his slow southern drawl makes her shiver.

"Well ... I guess we'll just have to think of somethin' else for dessert."

He watches her intensely, knowing he can't make his arousal obvious because they're sitting in public, and it's proving one of the hardest things he's done in a long time. He tries to focus instead on the wedding plans Amy is talking about, but it proves impossible. The sun is strong today, and makes her hair appear more golden as she listens to Amy, licking the ice cream in her hand so slowly it's torturous. She catches his eye and smiles devilishly, finishing the ice cream before finally letting him pull her into their house because she knows he can't wait any longer. Neither can she.

She comes home one lunch time, and finds him in their backyard, fast asleep on the sun lounger. She smiles, because he's been there long enough to have caught the sun. Deciding not to wake him, she eases his glasses off his face and marks the place in his book, before kissing his cheek and wandering back into the house to make some lunch.

She doesn't let him put pictures up in their house; putting pictures up means she's settling, and that's something she simply refuses to do on the island. Of course she feels so much happier there now, happier there probably, more than she's ever been in her life, but that's completely down to him, not to the place they live in. So she's surprised, when one day she's putting his laundry into their drawers to find a photograph tucked inside. She smiles, remembering their first 4th of July barbeque in the Dharma, where Amy had been completely snap happy with a 'new' camera and gone round taking pictures of absolutely everything she could. She'd caught them standing over by table where they were keeping the beers and snapped the shutter as they smiled towards her.

And when he gets home that night, he sees the photograph sitting inside a small silver frame, propped up on her nightstand.

He finds out just how stubborn she can be when they argue over what colour to paint their bedroom. She's adamant about beige, but he wants red.

He caves, and paints it beige for her, raising his eyebrows when he sees the colour of their sheets.

"It's all about compromise," she smiles, laying down the covers then falling onto the sea of red that covers their bed.

It surprises her when she opens the door to the rec room one day to find him playing the guitar.

"I didn't know you could play," she says, unable to stop the smile lighting up her face. She sits down next to him and listens as he strums the strings lightly, dimples showing as his eyes rest on hers. It's just one of the things she loves about him; that even when she thinks she knows everything, he takes her breath away with something new.

Their first time is like a matter of urgency ... like if they don't spend time devouring over every inch of each other's bodies now they'll die without getting the chance too. It's sticky and hot as clothes are thrown and furniture is shifted. Animal instinct takes over as he searches her mouth with his tongue, holding both of her hands above her head as she arches her back underneath him. Her heart is pounding harder than it ever has, she's sure, but it doesn't stop her from wrapping her legs around him. When it's happening, the intensity doesn't die, but things become slower. He takes his time and looks her right in the eye, feeling a connection so strong he's positive for a split second they're actually one soul.

They finish on par and she buries her face into the crook of his neck as he collapses on top of her, breathing heavily.

"That was ..." she starts.

"Yeah ..." and he kisses her.

He thinks about Kate, for the first time in a long time, after coming across a book whose character has the same name. He thinks about her every now and then; what she's doing, if she's okay, and he hopes that she is, but it the idea that she isn't doesn't plague him anymore. It crosses his mind, once every few months or so, but now ... now he's lying in bed, watching the woman he is so in love with it hurts, rub her legs with moisturizer. She catches his eye and smiles, leaving the strand of blonde hair that has fallen onto her face and crawls up the bed towards him.

He smiles into her kiss easily as she straddles him, and he tosses the book on the floor with a thud.