Title: Fantasy

Author: lexgallant/ Seraphim-Burning

Rating: M (minor sexual themes and some swearing- nothing explicit)

Ship: Lloyd/ Julianne

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Summary: He knows that the idea of them being together is completely ludicrous but it doesn't stop him from fantasizing about what it would be like.

Fantasy

In his fantasy he wasn't a con when they met. He had only ever seen the inside of a prison a handful of times and when he had it was because he had been brought in on a special consultation with an inmate. He was more then adept at psychiatric evaluation, usually for the prosecution or the defense, it hardly mattered who as his fee was the same regardless as to whether his testimony might help or hinder. He would walk through those walls, through pat down and security and feel a sense of detached pity for the poor men confined there. He would silently wish he could help them and then remind himself that testifying for them was helping before dismissing the thought entirely. In his mind he had compassion for the men stuck there but it was coupled with a detachment because he knew that at the end of the day he would leave those prison walls of his own accord and go home.

In his mind he would still be a tenured professor, published at least twice a year and the recipient of every single prestigious grant the government and different scholarships could offer him. He had received at least two more PhDs over the years as well as a smattering of B.A's ranging from music to philosophy. He was acclaimed, honored and when people mentioned that they had studied under Dr. Lloyd Lowery it opened doors. He was invited to the best parties, the most exclusive galas and the only time he had ever gambled was at the few fundraisers the university had supported. Even then it had been fun but life had too much to offer and as soon as the night was done he didn't think twice about leaving the poker and black jack tables far behind.

His mother was proud of him, doting even. In his fantasies she loved him and supported him. He had never seen her drink other then the rare glass of wine on holidays and special occasions. She encouraged him to get out more and find a wife while simultaneously lamenting that losing him would break her heart. He would always smile at her affectionate hugs and promise that if he did meet the perfect woman he would not be leaving her to start his own family but rather they would all live together. His reassurances would quell her fears and his mother would welcome each and every possible daughter in law into their home with open arms and kind words, waiting for the perfect one to complete their family.

He knew he would meet her through work. His fantasies usually orbited his profession. The Marshals would call him in on some extraordinarily tough case that had them completely baffled. He would enter the office in a tailor made suit, looking sharp and sophisticated and would blow them all away with his wry wit and expert opinions. Ray would be impressed, Charlie would ask him if he'd like to make the collaboration a common thing. Philly (because in his fantasies there were always more women on their team) and Erika would be hesitant at first but eventually would warm up. Then the two beautiful women would vie for his attentions. Asking him questions about the world outside and what he did and coo over how impressive he was. Shea would be friend. Lloyd would promise to get him in contact with the best appeals lawyer in the state. No one ever threw him around, lifted him up by his collar, tossed him into doors or punched him in the face. He was Dr. Lloyd Lowery and they wouldn't dare.

Amidst all this he would meet Julianne. She would be exactly the same (because he could never think of a single thing he wanted to change about her) She would be shy and still afflicted with her variety of anxiety disorders and he would note to her that he could help. She would tell him it was kind to offer but would refuse on some moral standing of not being able to pay for therapy. They would go on with the case but as they did he would notice her discrete glances, she however, would miss his. As the attraction grew he would go home to his mother and tell her he thought he had finally found the girl of his dreams but lament about how unobtainable she was. His mother would tell him not to give up, she would tell him that Julianne would have to be insane to not want him. He would not mention that she might very well be slightly crazy but he would take his mother's supportive advice and go in with her confidence renewed.

When the case came to an end he would go to Julianne again and give her his card, telling her that if she ever wanted to speak with him she was more then welcome to call. He would make it clear with a simple glance he did not meant on an exclusively professional basis and she would blush at the implication and thank him with a definite tremor in her voice. At the end of the case Charlie would ask if he would like a place on the team. Julianne would be there when it happened and he would note her blushing cheeks and soft smile before saying he would have to speak to the University but he was certain he could make it work. He would be well aware that between his two jobs he would be stretched pretty thin but one look at Julianne would reassure him. After all, what was a genius intellect for it you couldn't cope with a mere time management problem?

She would call him that very night and they would talk about her problems and his for the first few hours and after that they would talk about their lives until three AM. He would go to his lecture the next morning completely worn out but ecstatically happy, eager to speak to her again.

He would see her at least four or five times a week. Sometimes these dates would last all night long and sometimes for only a few hours. They would take it slow, it would be real, something worth waiting for. He could never decide exactly how the dates were executed. It depended on his mood. Some nights he deemed that an expensive dinner at an exclusive restaurant was the way to go. She would dress up in something black and long and slinky. She would wear her hair down and he would discreetly smell it while holding her chair out for her and she would pretend she hadn't noticed. They would have drinks afterwards, listening to softly played music while sitting close and talking. She would rest her head against his shoulder and he would wrap his arm around her until it was time to take her home. Other nights he would stay late at the Headquarters. They would work on the case, his developing a profile and her providing information for him. He would order pizza and they would talk and work. At some point in the night she would fall asleep and he would lay her down on the couch and sit beside her. Eventually he would sleep himself, waking to her head on his lap and the dawn sunlight in her hair. He would probably kiss her then and she wouldn't say a word about even though they both knew she was awake. There were other scenarios but those two were his favorites.

Oh, their first kiss would be something. He was sure of that. There was no way it couldn't be. Again, so many times and places and his mind replayed every possible one, selecting whichever one his mood deemed appropriate that night. In the office, on a street, sometimes in his home, other times in his lecture hall at the university. For every mood and for every bored moment in is day (and there were a few) there was a different scenario to play out. He could never decide on one consistently but the feelings he felt were usually the same. He tried to image what it would feel like. Her breath teasing across his cheek, her scent invading his nose. Whether he would place his hands in her hair or on her neck and just how soft either would be.

He would savor every second of it, using every sense to memorize the exact moment their lips would touch. The pressure of his lips against hers, some and pliant. The taste of her running over his tongue. He imagined she tasted of vanilla or of the tea she was always drinking. Something mellow and smooth and sweet. Lying in his bed at night he would become drunk on the sensation of it, focusing his mind totally on being immersed in his fantasy until finally he would be forced to abandon it or deal with a rather painful state of arousal.

And when they would make love it would change them both. The sensation of skin on skin and the taste of her. The sensation of her pressed beneath him and the gasping pleasure he was sure she would bring. It would be their first time so it would be awkward and full of delicate insecurity and absolutely perfect. Afterwards, while she was sleeping, he would stay awake and memorize how she looked. He imagined the moonlight playing off the bare white skin of her back and the way her golden hair would spill across the pillow. There in the anonymity of the night he would whisper his feelings to her, tell he loved her more then he could ever remember loving anything or anyone in his entire life. He would bury his face in her hair and try to sleep all the while knowing he wouldn't.

In some ways this fantasy was the rarest Lloyd would allow himself and often the worst for in his own sleep he would dread waking up, knowing that the only thing that would be there upon opening his eyes would be a cold neural coloured cell and the harsh reality of his own situation..

As his time with the "Breakout Kings" continued and his thinking time was no longer occupied with how to survive as it had been in Rahway he found his fantasies became more and more detailed. His entire life he had been careful to reign in his mind and he knew from reading and experience that people with his intelligence were also more prone to very intense and realistic imaginations. When he was a Doctor and had a profession and a life to worry about. He was always very careful not to loose control of his imagination and allow himself to be too consumed by it. However in Maybelle, where there was nothing to lose and else to do but think, he lived out their entire lives in his head.

It wasn't just the sex or the romance of the fantasies, it was the stuff of life itself that mattered to him. In field and during "work release" he would be polite, shy but intensely interested and the moment he was brought back to Maybelle in chains he would live out all the things he wanted with her. For her. For them.

At night he would sit alone reading or standing in the common rooms and in his mind he was on a worn leather couch that overlooked a warm fireplaces. He would be seated between two tow-headed children, both clambering over his lap to get closer to him. He would read to them, stories he had read to himself when he was younger, and change his voice for the different characters, making them laugh and giggle. He would tell them the things he seen and done at work that day and they would be intrigued with him before going about in their childish way. They would want to ensuring he was going to attend whatever recital or play that they were participating in that week and he knew that it would be hard to swing but as a father he promised himself he would never miss one if he could help it.

He wished for little girls with her face and eyes and boys with her determination and kindness.

He would dream of holding flaxen haired infants and rocking colicky babies to sleep at night. He dreamed of slipping between the sheets next to her after staying up late to proof a paper for publication and watching the way the lamp light shone on her golden wedding band before he spooned up next to her to sleep himself. He dreamed of waking up and knowing she would be there next to him, ready to start the day. He even dreamed of the fights they would have and his trying to convince their daughter to put in a good word for him. He dreamed of making promises to Julianne and being able to keep them, of being able to give her the life she deserved and of being the man she deserved. Whole lifetimes were lived at night, a private world where in his mind she loved him and he could be a partner for her in this life.

If the others knew they would mock him for the rest of his foreseeable future.

If Julianne knew he didn't think he would ever be able to face her again.

It was his secret shame and his guilty pleasure. Sometimes he wouldn't be able to do it, feeling that these fantasies were violation of her. Other times the reality that they would never come to pass hit him so hard he delved into anything else he possibly could just to escape the wave of depression; but in the end he needed it. He longed for it the way a junkie needed a fix. And while he struggled to beat his gambling addiction he knew he could never beat his addiction to her.

In his dreams he told her all the things he couldn't say to her in the waking world. In his dreams he wasn't a con and she wasn't so unreachable that each moment they were in one another's presence was some kind of exquisite torturous dance of back and forth. He wasn't in some sort of twisted work release program where they only really interacted through metaphorical bars with the ever looming knowledge that while she would go home to her room and her family he would return to his small cell, to be locked up with the rest of the cheaters, criminals, rapists and murderers society despised and deemed unworthy.

He knew his own reality well enough to know that asking Julianne to share his fantasy world would not only be unhealthy for her but completely cruel. He didn't want her to be one of those wives he saw visiting their locked away husbands; faces streaked with tears, hands clutching tightly with the knowledge that time was limited and could end at any moment. She deserved more then a first time coupling in a conjugal trailer, daily phone calls and weekly visitations along with an eventual jailhouse wedding.

He saw it as some sort of karmic retribution (despite his previous belief that karma was nothing more then pure bunk). While society made his pay for his crimes by imprisoning him fate was a great deal crueler. Introducing him to the first woman in his life he would have considered making a lifetime commitment too when he was in no position to make a single move on her. There was no greater punishment he could think of then being forced to watch her from afar, knowing that eventually she would find someone who would love her and start a life with her. Knowing that all the while she was growing and changing he remained the same, a life on pause for the next quarter century.

So in the end, while he knew they were absurd and a great deal more damaging to his state of mind then he would ever admit to, he clung to his secret fantasies. Because, for as far as he could foresee, those fantasies were all he would ever have. He was all too aware that in the real world, the one where he was a wash up, screw up and fuck up, he was not worthy to stand alongside her. However in his dreams he did everything alongside her, as her partner and equal and for Dr. Lloyd Lowery, it was that second life that kept him going through the day and sleeping through the night. For Lloyd the fantasies were hope and if he was honest with himself, that was all he had left.