A/N: Three missing years in Dharma for Suliet... awesome for us writers!(Of course, I'd prefer a show dedicated entirely to those three years.)

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It's hard to woo a lady properly when you're stuck on a damn island. In the 70's. And you're both part of a group of hippie scientists hiding from hostiles and smoke monsters and wild animals and whatever else lives in the freaky jungle.

They've been with Dharma for a few months now, settled into their 9 to 5 jobs, making new routines, attending new recruit parties and making nice with the neighbors. This is about the longest James has ever gone having actual stability in his life, a real job where people counted on him, with friends who truly wanted his company.

Dan had left for Ann Arbor soon after their small group had joined up. Miles was getting along with the locals quite nicely; the hippie girls seemed to really dig him. And they all were working on teaching Jin English, a good pastime for lazy weekend afternoons when there wasn't much else to do.

And Juliet. Well, James had asked Juliet for two weeks. So far, she'd given him many, many more weeks than just two (thank God, he thought every day) and he no longer woke up each morning worrying she'd be on the next sub outta here.

Things had changed during their months in the Initiative. James had changed, more than he'd even realized. Those first few weeks, when he wasn't distracted by whatever crisis was plaguing them (hostile situation, keeping up their initial lie, Miles being an ass, etc.) his mind would drift to the helicopter, to the black smoke billowing on the horizon from the sinking freighter, the hopelessness he had felt that even the alcohol couldn't erase, thinking she was dead. He picked over every single memory and moment he could recall with Kate. She was gone, but he couldn't stop thinking about her.

Then one day, a couple of months after their incorporation, James' mind had wandered at work, as usual. But instead of seeing freckles and green eyes and cages and tents, he pictured how Juliet had looked that morning when he'd accidentally opened the bathroom door on her getting out of the shower. Her wet blonde hair, her pale skin just barely covered in time with a towel, her clear, blue eyes full of surprise, embarrassment, a hint of amusement. Good morning, she'd said to him, a bit playful. After recovering his faculties (and lifting his eyes from her body to meet her own) he'd responded with his usual charm, Glad I could catch the show before work.

After that, the memories of Kate began to fade, replaced with other, more pertinent things: work stuff, what was packed for his lunch, when the next barbecue was, if he needed more beer. And Juliet. How she'd looked as they read side-by-side the night before, the way her whole face got brighter when she laughed, the feel of her hand cradling his cheek as they kissed goodbye in the mornings, kissed hello in the evenings.

Soon, James realized he had spent more time building this confusing, exciting, frustrating, intriguing something of a relationship with his female roommate and former enemy for longer than he had even known Freckles. He had loved Kate in a way back then, that is true.

But he is falling in love with Juliet a little more every day, now, and that is real.

He wants to treat her the way she should be treated, wants to whisk her out for a night on the town, her in a little black dress and him in his nicest suit, shelling out cash he can't spend, eating rich and tasty food, drinking top notch wine and champagne, taking her to the top of a building and kissing her above the blinking, breathing city.

But that isn't going to happen. Hell, he'd settle for taking her to a simple dinner and a movie, but here in Dharmaville that'd mean hitting up the cafeteria then stuffing themselves along with everyone else on the damn island into the rec room that doubles as a theater on Friday nights.

This thing they've got going, James doesn't want to screw it up. It's new, and kind of terrifying, and he feels like a schoolboy who's scored a date with the hot head cheerleader. (Or, more accurately, the hot president of the smartypants club.) Loving Kate had been a challenge, a heated pursuit, and ultimately heartbreaking, especially when she inevitably went back to the Doc (though James did well hiding his pain). Loving Juliet is simple, natural, something he was born to do. They disliked each other, then they grudgingly respected each other, then they trusted each other, then they had each other's backs, then they were friends, and now…

Well, now, here they are. Him leading her, eyes covered, out of their little yellow house, down the steps, and around to the backyard. He moves his hands from her eyes once they've stopped, and she gasps in delight.

"James!" she admonishes happily. "It's beautiful."

"It ain't nothin'," he shrugs with a grin, taking in his afternoon's work: a picnic table swiped from outside the cafeteria covered with a tablecloth, candles, silverware and plates, dinner sitting in the center, twinkly lights hanging from the trees surrounding, music drifting out from the record player.

"This must have taken you all day."

"Nah, just the afternoon," he replies, urging her towards the table. "I had Phil take over, told him I had somethin' special planned for my lady."

Juliet's eyebrows rise as she sits. "'Your lady'?" she repeats sardonically.

James rolls his eyes. "You know what I'm sayin'. I wanted to do somethin' nice for ya, Blondie."

"This is very nice," Juliet agrees, giving him a big, wide smile. "You didn't have to do all this."

"Well, I can't take you out how I wanna," James explains, serving the food. "So I've had to improvise."

"This is perfect," Juliet decides, looking all around, taking it in. "And you cooked!"

"I still got some tricks hidden up my Dharma jumpsuit sleeve."

They sit and begin eating, and Juliet compliments his cooking. James doesn't mention he had the help of Miles and Jin, who both turn out to be not so bad with a ladle.

"So how am I doin'?" James asks. "Am I wooin' you properly?"

Juliet laughs. "Yes, James. Consider me woo'd." She sips her Dharma-issue wine, a grin permanently plastered on her face. "There is only one way you could improve this evening."

"Oh? What's that, Emily Post?"

"Dancing." Her eyes sparkle in the candlelight.

"Dancin'?" he repeats, unsure. "I ain't much of a dancer."

"I'll help you!" Juliet promises, already rising, grabbing his hand. A nice slow song has started on the record player.

"Well all right Twinkle toes." James allows himself to be yanked up, then pulls Juliet close so her hair tickles his neck. He can smell her hair, and maybe a little grease from her day at the motor pool, which for some reason makes him smile wider. "Don't blame me if you get stepped on."

They don't do anything fancy, just swaying really, from side to side, in a slow circle, his arms around her, her hands linked behind his head. James can't believe he's dancing in the middle of this backyard that he spent all afternoon fixing up to be sweet and romantic. Where did this version of himself come from?

(Not that he's complaining. He kind of likes this guy, especially if this guy gets Juliet by his side.)

"I'm glad I stayed," she mumbles against his shoulder.

He knows exactly what she means, kisses the top of her blonde head. "Me too, sweetheart," he replies firmly.

He'll dream of her tonight, and not anyone else. And tomorrow when he wakes up she'll be there, too. Some point soon he'll find the courage to tell her he loves her. And if that isn't enough to make him completely content, even for this one moment, then nothing else is.

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