Who: Ben & Juliet Linus What: Establishing their relationship with a nice domestic scene! When: Wednesday, March 7th, evening Where: The Linus residence in Irvine, CA Rating: PG Status: Complete
Juliet was thankful for her job. She worked at the best hospital in the area, lived in an area where crime was low and the facilities there were amazing. Still, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she could be doing good somewhere else. Back at St. Joseph’s there was an emergency every night at least, but here? In Irvine? It was safe. There was no one to fix, no one to save. So, sure, it was easier, but was it what she really wanted? No, Juliet was thankful for her job. She was. And she was thankful to come home to her husband too.
She sighed a deep breath of relief when she closed the door to her home behind her and placed her purse on the table. “Honey, I’m home,” she told the house with a big smirk. Yes, Juliet was being a wise-ass.
Ben wasn’t intentionally hiding from her, but it may have looked that way as he popped up from beneath the kitchen island. There was a knife in one hand and a pineapple in the other. “I wasn’t expecting you,” he turned to look at the clock behind him, “On time.”
In was an open concept kitchen, with dark wood and black appliances, and it was very warm because the oven set to 400-degrees. His face was a little shiny with sweat. Ben dabbed his forehead with the cuff of his rolled sleeve and placed the pineapple on the cutting board. Beside that was a pan releasing even more steam into the air, steam that smelled like ham.
“I know it’s a little fancy for a Wednesday, but my last patient cancelled and I figured I had the time.” He gave the pineapple a gentle pat on its spiny leaves. “If you don’t mind waiting another twenty minutes.”
Also on the island countertop was a running laptop, the glow from the screen disrupting the ambient lighting of the kitchen. It faced away from the front door. Ben glanced at it and tapped a few keys.
“Surprise!” Juliet replied with a shrug as she saw her husband pop up out of nowhere with a knife in hand. Most women might be a little unsettled by that, but she didn’t mind. She loved it when Ben made dinner for her. He spoiled her. “I know I’m always late, but it was slow today so I made it on time. Imagine that.”
Juliet took her jacket off and placed it aside. It was warm in the house, she didn’t need it. “I don’t mind fancy and I think I can wait.” She gave Ben a wry smile and closed the distance between them so she could give him a quick kiss, not meaning to distract him, but as a way of greeting. She noticed the laptop and glanced at it. “Are you working on something?” she asked. It wasn’t entirely unlike Ben to multitask. They were both workaholics if the truth were to be told.
“Possibly. I don’t know yet,” he replied. “A young woman posted something on the network about visitations from the dead and it just so happens I had a short conversation with her the other day.”
Ben felt no apprehension in explaining the situation, though some men might hesitate to confess chatting with other women online. Clearly, this wasn’t that sort of situation. He left the laptop open so that Juliet could read everything if she wanted.
“I think she has a history of mental illness,” he continued. “Or at least she believes she does.”
“Visitations from the dead?” Juliet mused on this a moment, peering over Ben’s shoulder to get a look at the girl. “I remember seeing her on the network when I replied to you before coming home, but I didn’t take the time to read what you were talking about.” Juliet wasn’t the jealous type. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ben only had eyes for her. He could talk to all of the girls he wanted to.
“It sounds like it. Are you going to try to convince her to come see you?” Juliet asked, smiling at Ben and giving his cheek a quick touch with her hand. He was a good man. Always concerned with everyone else’s well being. “Can I help you with anything? I promise I won’t burn anything this time,” but that couldn’t always be helped. Juliet tried to be a good house wife, but cooking wasn’t exactly her expertise. You’d think she could bake a cake though when she could perform surgeries under extreme pressure, but it just didn’t happen that way.
Her hand was like a welcome breeze, still cool from the night air. The skin of his cheek seemed to rise to meet her palm before they even touched. He smiled, moving to close the laptop. Everyone else could wait, and rightfully so. He was all hers.
“Well, if she wants to talk with me, I’d be glad to,” he said, if only to put a period at the end of the sentence. Ben took up his knife and pointed at the pineapple. “This is the only thing left to do. You have time wash up, if you want. Or you could just sit and wait for me to serve you.” He spoke with a dry humor, but he was not entirely joking.
It was dark outside and the streetlights were coming on. Even with only a quick glance out the kitchen window, Ben could see down several layers of Irvine, California,
When Ben closed the laptop she took that as a sign that the conversation about the girl was over. Now it was just the two of them in the kitchen together, the way it should be. “I will do both and stop distracting you,” Juliet replied with a smile.
She moved away from Ben and washed her hands in the kitchen sink. Her hands were always so dry from washing her hands so many times a day, but it was a part of the job. So, she pulled out the hand lotion she kept in the kitchen junk drawer and took it back with her to the kitchen table where she could still watch and talk with her husband.
“How was your day?” she asked. It was almost surreal sitting there in that lovely home married to an amazing man. She had never thought she would get to this point, but life for her now? Well, it was bordering on perfect. The only thing that would make it better was if her sister was around, but no one could do that for Juliet. No one could bring back the dead.
By the time she took her seat, the spines of the pineapple had been shaved and he was well into slicing the thing. He talked as he continued to work, laying slices across the ham and ultimately placing everything back in the oven. “I’d call it a good day. Mr. Gregg told me he’d finally spoken with his daughter and it went pretty well.” He tended to bend the rules of confidentiality with Juliet, but probably no more than most doctors and their spouses. She knew a little bit of the background of a few of his patients. “Beer, wine, or water?” he asked, interrupting himself as he indulged in a little sauvignon blanc himself.
“Is that really a question?” Juliet asked. Anyone who knew Juliet knew that she almost always drank red wine with dinner and sometimes while reading a book, or before bed or... well, you get the idea. She liked wine a lot. Not that she was a drunk or anything because she knew her boundaries, but she definitely loved a glass of red wine. “Pinot Noir for me, please,” she said pleasantly.
“I’m glad to hear about Mr. Gregg and his daughter. Things are looking up for him.” Juliet finished with the lotion and moved to put it back in the junk drawer. She made sure to make a pit stop by Ben to give him a kiss before going back to the table and sitting down. The book she was reading by Stephen King was there, but she pushed it aside. She would finish it later. “The ER was slow today so I had a lot of time to myself. It’s so different from St. Joseph’s. I’m still trying to get used to it.”
Ben circled the kitchen island, a glass of wine in each hand. He placed the darker one at his wife’s place setting and the other across the table, taking a sip first, of course. Wine was a passion they both shared, and living in California had made it into something of a hobby.
“Boredom in the ER, eh?” He smiled. “Well, I suppose it’s better than some alternatives.”
When the pineapple had enough time to brown, he removed everything from the oven and began to plate. Rolls and green beans also made their way on to the table. Ben took his seat across from her, giving her foot a little tap on purpose.
He said grace silently and entirely to himself. It took only a second. It probably only looked like he was only blinking his eyes. Saying grace was his own private secret.
His focus returned to Juliet. He smiled as he picked up his fork. And, just like every meal they shared, Ben spent the first few minutes multitasking between the conversation and calculating the probably that the conversation was even happening. How was it possible that this beautiful, statuesque woman was sitting across from him? What were the chances that this could even be happening, right now? How was it possible that in a few hours he’d be holding her as they slept? They all seemed like such long shots. But he supped that meant that he was just excedingly lucky. Perhaps the luckiest man in the world.