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The Answer	By : TippyMidget Category: G through L > Lost Views: 1512 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or seek to profit from LOST or any of its characters. LOST and its characters belong to ABC, Cuse, Lindelof, etc.

Chapter List
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“Please have a seat, Juliet.” Ben sat behind his desk and gestured for Juliet to take the chair on the opposite side, while Richard pulled chairs in from the other room for himself and Marian.
“What is this about, Ben?” Juliet looked thoroughly confused at the composition of the meeting, and even more confused that Marian seemed to know what was going on while she herself did not. Ben smiled mildly at her and waited for Richard and Marian to sit down.
“Marian has some news for you,” he said pleasantly, though Juliet had known him long enough to see through his artificial congeniality. She looked over at Marian, who bit her lip and stared wide-eyed back at her.
“I'm... I'm pregnant,” Marian said, looking relieved once she'd said it. Juliet looked suddenly panicked. She looked from Richard to Marian, and back to Ben.
“We haven't made any progress on the problem, Ben! Was this done on purpose?” Her eyes were furious.
Ben nodded calmly. “Marian agreed to become pregnant in an effort to preserve the life of both mother and child.”
“But we've lost every single patient! And I have no idea how to fix it!” Juliet gripped her face frantically. She met Marian's eyes and shook her head. “Sweetheart, why would you agree to this? You work with me. You know what this means for you. Please, please, Marian, let's terminate the pregnancy.”
Marian narrowed her eyes. “An abortion? Absolutely not, Juliet! I'm a Catholic!”
“And that would negate the entire purpose of what she agreed to do,” Ben chimed in.
“Why is Richard here?” Juliet asked suddenly. She glared at him. “Are you the father?”
Richard chuckled. “Good Heavens, no,” he insisted. “No, I'm not the father. I'm here in an advisory capacity.”
“Then who is the father?” she demanded, crossing her arms.
Marian thought abruptly that it was none of Juliet's business, that she was not handling this well at all, and that she shouldn't know about Jacob. “We used artificial insemination,” she said, her prevarication sounding unrehearsed and unconvincing.
Richard and Ben looked at one another, and Ben shrugged and nodded to Richard. “She's lying,” Richard said to Juliet. “The father is Jacob.”
Juliet's jaw dropped and she furrowed her brow, looking at all three of them. Marian stared at her hands, her cheeks beet red. “I - I don't understand,” Juliet stammered, throwing her hands up. “Marian, you went and slept with Jacob to get pregnant and die? What kind of plan is this? What kind of leader is Jacob to use a girl like this?”
Now Marian looked up, her face furious. “How dare you insult him,” she hissed. “You can't even begin to understand, Juliet!”
“I think you've had a little too much Kool-Aid,” Juliet scoffed.
“And you haven't had enough,” Marian responded.
“Ladies!” Ben interjected, putting his hands up. They both stopped bickering and stared at him. “Juliet, this is privileged information on pain of very serious punishment. You are not to tell anyone what's been said in this meeting. You are to treat Marian as you would any other patient. Marian, you will respect Juliet as your doctor. I don't want any more argument.”
“Ben, would you do this to Alex?” Juliet looked him straight in the eye. Ben blinked and looked wide-eyed at her. He didn't answer. Juliet got up from her chair and stormed out of the room.
“Well,” Richard said after she'd gone, “That went well.”
Marian's heart raced as she crossed the lawn in front of her house after the meeting. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows on the grass, and the oppressive heat made her Scotland t-shirt cling to her torso as her braids swung in time with her trotting gait. If he was true to his word, Jacob would be waiting for her. She felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought of walking into her house and finding him there, though her head was still spinning with anger at Juliet's reaction. She was filled with emotions she couldn't quite calibrate.
She opened her door and stepped inside, grinning blissfully when she saw Jacob sitting on the couch with her old, dog-eared copy of Wise Blood by Flannery O'Connor. It looked like he was reading the last page.
“Hi,” she said, realizing that this was how she often greeted him, with a simple one-word salutation insufficient for a man of such gravitas. He put down the book and looked up at her with a zen-like smile that seemed to reveal he knew exactly what had gone on in her day without needing to ask her.
“Why did you lie?” he asked simply. She set her purse down on the kitchen table and sighed.
“What are you talking about?” Her voice trembled slightly and her smile disappeared.
“To Juliet. You told her it was artificial insemination, and you were prepared to tell her the donor was a man from the mainland you'd never met.” He looked at her with what seemed like nonjudgmental curiosity. She chewed on her lip and nodded slowly. Jacob chuckled a little under his breath. “Did you really think Richard and Ben were going to go along with that story?”
“Jacob, how could you possibly know what was said in that room, or what I was thinking of telling her?” Marian looked at him with an accusatory glare, her voice sounding defensive. She crossed her arms and backed up against the island in the kitchen.
“You're changing the subject.” He smiled serenely, and his calmness irritated her even more.
“Damn right, I'm changing the subject! How could you possibly know those things? You were here the whole day, weren't you? You weren't in that meeting!”
“Will you please tell me why you lied to Juliet?” His sapphire eyes were bright and pleading.
“Don't you already know, if you're so omniscient?” she said mockingly, looking like she was going to cry. “Why make me tell you?”
“Is it because you were ashamed?”
“What?” She crossed the room to stand in front of the couch where he sat. She looked down at him and scoffed. “No! For once, Jacob, you're wrong.”
“Then why?” He was still completely composed, and she sat on the couch beside him.
“Because... I didn't want her to be angry with you,” she said finally.
He gave her an odd look. “What does that matter?” he demanded. “I don't care if Juliet is angry with me.”
“I don't like her talking bad about you,” Marian mumbled, running her fingers over one of her braids.
“Do you think she's right?” he asked gently, putting his hand on her knee.
“About what?”
“You don't think I'm using you, right? You know that's not what I'm doing? I love you,” He tipped her chin up so she was looking right at him, and he trapped her in his enrapturing gaze. She gave him a weak smile.
“I know,” she said quietly. “But you did spend the first twenty years of my life watching me... and hitting on me in coffee shops. And then somehow you convinced Ben and Richard to bring me here. You knew this was going to happen. I never had a choice, did I?”
“I told you the first day in the statue that no one was making you do anything. There was always a choice, Marian.”
“I'm sorry I lied,” she said, still fumbling with her braid. “I got defensive. I get hot-headed. Please, Jacob, please don't be mad at me for lying.” She looked over to him with eyes rimmed with tears, and he put his hand behind her head and pulled her in to kiss her forehead.
“You have to do a lot more than that to get me angry,” he said.
“And I know I had a choice – and still do. And I choose you,” she said, giving him a gentle smile.
He grinned smugly. “Good people make the right choice eventually,” he said. “Sometimes they just need a little push.”
Marian shoved him playfully, and he laughed, which made her heart accelerate. Didn't Jacob realize, she wondered, just how attractive he was when he was casual like this? He had to know. She huffed suddenly and sat back, getting a frustrated look on her face.
“What is it?” he asked, looking concerned.
“I really want a cup of tea, but I can't have the caffeine,” she said.
“I don't think one cup is going to hurt anything,” he responded confidently.
She eyed him skeptically. “Are you a doctor, too?” she asked. “This pregnancy seems risky enough without drinking caffeine.”
“Marian, everything will be perfectly fine if you drink one cup of tea,” Jacob pronounced assuredly, giving her a deliberate look.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he nodded firmly.
He had known what had gone on in her meeting with Ben, Richard, and Juliet without being there, Marian told herself. He had known what she was going to tell Juliet. It seemed perfectly plausible that he would know for certain that a cup of tea wasn't going to hurt anything. She got up from the couch and walked in the kitchen to start assembling the tea, reaching around cabinets and rifling through mugs and boxes of teabags.
“So, what did you do today?” she asked Jacob, her back to him.
“I read books, and listened to music. You have a lot of show tunes,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, well, I like musicals.” She looked over her shoulder to grin at him.
“I know you do. Your copy of Les Misérables was particularly well-loved.”
“I played Young Cosette when I was nine. But you probably knew that,” she added quickly. She dipped her teabag in the hot water in the mug and let it start steeping. She turned to face him again and nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw him standing a foot away from her in the kitchen. She hadn't even heard him get off the couch. “Jesus, Jacob, you move like a cat!” she exclaimed, her heart racing. She braced her hands against the counter and leaned back against it.
“Sorry,” he laughed, walking to stand flush against her and putting his hands on her waist. Marian instinctively leaned forward, resting her head on Jacob's chest. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, and she sighed happily. “You should sing for me sometime,” he said quietly.
“Fat chance,” she responded, raising her eyes up to him and grinning crookedly.
“Well, it's not like I've never heard you sing,” he reasoned, shrugging.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Let me guess. You hid outside my living room window and listened in while I sang Christmas carols.”
He laughed heartily. “I'm not that creepy,” he said. “I did see you sing 'I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair,' among other songs, in South Pacific.”
“You saw me play Nellie Forbush?” Marian asked incredulously.
“I was sitting in the third row at the Friday night show.”
“Just how many times did you visit me, Jacob? And... why?” She pulled back from him and gave him a strange gaze. He kept his hands on her waist but gave her a conciliatory look.
“Probably once every other year,” he said. “Very briefly. Fleeting things, like an Irish dance recital and the first race you jockeyed. Important things. I visited you twice the year before you came here. Once when you were working in the library, and that time in the coffee shop. I had to be sure.”
“Then how do you know I miss my cats? How do you know I went skiing with my ex-boyfriend?”
Jacob sighed. “You've always been so inquisitive about absolutely everything.” He rubbed his forehead and she stared stubbornly at him. “You don't have to work tomorrow. In the morning, we'll go to a place where I can explain to you how I know everything about you. I promise, I'll explain it all.”
She smiled and nodded, satisfied, and turned around to start spooning sugar in her tea. Suddenly, as she was stirring the liquid, she felt horrifically nauseous, and she dashed out of the kitchen and down the hallway into the bathroom. She barely made it in time to retch into the toilet. There was hardly anything in her stomach since she'd had a small lunch and hadn't eaten dinner yet, so her muscles wrenched horribly. She prayed that Jacob would have the good sense to not approach the bathroom and leave her in peace to be sick, and he did. After she was sure it was over, she brushed her teeth twice and rinsed her mouth with mouthwash. She scrubbed her face and hands and finally walked slowly out to the living room, where Jacob was waiting patiently on the couch.
He smiled gently at her, his face filled with pity. “So much for the tea,” he said. She laughed weakly and sat beside him, self-consciously not sitting too close.
“Isn't it a little early for morning sickness... evening sickness... whatever it is?” she asked worriedly.
Jacob shook his head calmly. “Perfectly normal,” he reassured her. “It doesn't mean anything.”
She nodded shakily. “Let me make you some dinner,” she said absently, starting to rise off the couch. He stood quickly and put his hand on her shoulder to make her sit.
“Why don't you let me do that?” he suggested. “Lie down; you look exhausted.”
“I am,” she confirmed, only then realizing how tired she was. She kicked off her shoes and heaved her legs up onto the couch, leaning her head on the throw pillow. She watched for a while as Jacob moved around her kitchen in a surreal scene: him, of all people, making her dinner. She would have laughed out loud if she hadn't been too busy yawning. Before she could contemplate too seriously that it was all getting very real now, that she was either going to have Jacob's child or die trying, she had fallen fast asleep.
He'd awakened her to eat dinner, and she'd managed to eat some green beans, cous cous, and tofu. She'd laughed when she'd seen the tofu.
“Something tells me you don't want to eat this,” she told him.
“You don't eat meat. You don't even have any meat here,” he noted.
“Well, thanks,” she said gratefully, sipping ginger ale to settle her stomach. After dinner, he'd insisted on cleaning up and had implored her to go to bed. She was tired and queasy, but she felt guilty leaving him to do the dishes, and she had wanted to spend the evening with him. Reluctantly, she went in the bedroom and got changed into red flannel shorts and a black tank top, unraveling her pigtail braids and brushing out her hair. She brushed her teeth again and climbed beneath her warm, fluffy down comforter, relishing the feeling of her soft pillow beneath her head. Soon, the soft sound of clinking dishes from the kitchen stopped, and she drifted off to sleep again. She dreamed of swimming with Jacob in the ocean, embracing him in the water...
“Marian?” His voice was barely a whisper, and she thought she was still dreaming. He said her name again, very gently, and she opened her eyes to see him, crouching, shirtless, in the lamplight before her.
“Hi,” she said, thinking to herself that once again she sounded very stupid.
“Hi,” he responded kindly, smiling. He saw her eying his bare skin and he looked down at himself. “My clothes are in the dryer. I washed them.” He still had boxer shorts on, but beside that, he was completely nude, and she forced her eyes up to his. His hair appeared dark in glowing light, and she guessed it was wet. He smelled like soap. “I know you're not feeling well, so I'm going to sleep on the couch, all right?”
“No!” Marian protested childishly, suddenly alert and propping herself up on her elbow. “I'm fine now! Please, Jacob...” She patted the blankets beside her, and he grinned and walked around the bed to climb in beside her. He lay on his back, and she turned over to cuddle up against his chest, resting her hand on his shoulder. “I can hear your heart beating,” she said rather excitedly.
He chuckled. “Did you get your hearing back?”
She nodded against his chest. This had been one occurrence that had convinced her of the Island's miraculous properties and had made her want to stay. When she was twelve years old, Marian had gotten an ear infection called mastoiditis that had left her deaf in her right ear. Three days after arriving on the Island, she'd suddenly been able to hear out of her right ear again. Convinced that the Island had healed her, Marian had decided that day that she didn't want to leave.
Jacob stroked her arm and kissed her forehead. “Get some sleep,” he instructed her, tracing his fingers through her auburn hair. “We've got a long walk in the morning.”
She wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he was awake, still holding her, when she opened her eyes in the sunlight.
“Hi,” she said, looking up into his steel blue eyes. She instantly scolded herself for greeting him with the simple, anserine one-word salutation, and she bit her lip. “Good morning,” she corrected herself, and he smiled at her.
“Feeling any better?”
“Yes, I'm fine,” she nodded, pushing herself up off his chest and shoving her hair out of her eyes.
“Good,” he said. “We've got quite a trek if you want your explanation.”
“So you're going to tell me how you know every fact about my entire life?” She looked at him incredulously.
“I am.”
“Then where are we going?” she asked confusedly, raising her eyebrows. He hesitated for a moment before he answered.
“We're going,” he said, “To a very special lighthouse.”
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The Answer