The Woman from the Plane [Lost Fanfiction]

Chapter 4: Before the Dawn

Ben continued receiving regular reports from his spies on the survivors' progress. Ethan's group was considerably larger—the tail section of the plane, where Goodwin had installed himself, had crashed into the ocean, leaving fewer passengers alive.

In Ethan's group, the doctor had emerged as a leader—he'd grown close to a woman who appeared to have been in the custody of a marshal on the flight, though it was unclear if the doctor was aware of that fact. There was an Iraqi man with an interesting set of skills, and the pregnant girl—Claire—had grown close to a musician, who appeared to be keeping a close eye on her.

The boy Walt interested Ben as well. As Valerie had alluded to, he seemed to have some unique qualities that had the potential to prove valuable. But she'd expressly indicated that Walt was off limits—and while he was willing to push some of her boundaries, he was hesitant to cross that line if it was not what Jacob wanted.

After a week or so, Ethan's group had split—several of them had moved their camp to caves some ways into the jungle. They'd done it to be closer to a water supply—but those still yearning for rescue had lingered on the beach.

Ben communicated none of this to Valerie. She didn't seem that curious about what was happening among the passengers—she was primarily concerned with Ben's health, and the credibility of the story they were building. He wasn't sure if it was because she didn't care, or because there wasn't anything he could tell her that she didn't already know.

Two nights before they had planned to leave, Ben intercepted Juliet on her walk home. There were some things that he needed to resolve with her before he left.

"Juliet," he called after her.

She turned to face him. "Ben," she replied curtly.

"Tomorrow is my last night here—for a while at least. I'd like to have dinner with you, if you don't object."

She frowned at him. She had every reason to object.

"Consider it an apology," he pleaded, "I have not been fair to you lately."

"Will anyone else be there?"

"I'd prefer to talk privately—but I understand if you're not comfortable with that."

She seemed taken aback by his willingness to be accommodating.

"It's not a date," he added firmly. "It's a meeting."

"Fine," she agreed, shaking her head slightly.

"Thank you, Juliet," he said, and turned back towards home.

He'd felt quite strongly about Juliet. She was a strong-minded woman, very beautiful, and very kind. Kind—but not meek. He'd wanted so badly for her to see something in him—to be impressed by the world he ruled here—but she never was.

The infatuation had, fortunately, begun to pass. It had started to fade when the plane crashed—a realization he'd come to with some relief. He did still need to keep her on the Island—but not for himself.

"I'm having Juliet over for dinner tomorrow," he called to Valerie when he walked through the door.

"Oh?" she asked, emerging from his office in what appeared to be one of his shirts, and nothing else.

"Why aren't you wearing pants?" he asked, exasperated.

She shrugged. "It's warm. Anyway, you have a date tomorrow?"

"It's not a date—she's not—"

"Oh I know," Valerie replied, plucking a single piece of celery out of the fridge. She took a bite of it. "She's fucking Goodwin," she continued while chewing.