We're in a Chinese Opium Den, Timmy.

music meme thing

2008-01-16T05:11:23Z

taken from moveitslow

Step 1: Put your MP3 player or whatever on random.
Step 2: Post the first line(s) from the first 20 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing the song.
Step 3: Post and let everyone you know guess what song and artist the lines come from.
And guess mine, obviously. No cheating!!
Step 4: Strike out the songs when someone guesses correctly

1. Duérmete pronto mi amor/Que la noche ya llegó

2. (The actual first line gives it away quite definitely, so, I'm skipping one) Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind? Can he walk at all, Or if he moves will he fall?

3. Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup

4. City streets at night can be so intimidating, I'm not the toughest guy, I've gotta keep my eyes open

5. Wash your dirty mouth, your dirty mouth, watch your little mouth

6. Born to lose, I've lived my life in (pain)?, every dream has only brought me pain

~~7. When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom~~
(If this one's not gotten quickly, I'll be surprised)

8. Days swiftly come and go, I'm dreaming of her, she's seeing other guys

(my iPod died and had to restart here, so, this is actually another random play. :-p)

9. One evening as the sun went down and the jungle fire was burning, down the track came a hobo hiking

10. Keepin' up appearances, keepin' up with the Jones', fooling my selfish heart, going through the motions

~~11. Hey Dad, I'm writing to you, not to tell you that I still hate you, just to ask you how you feel~~

12. I heard this old story before, where people keep on killing for their metaphors, but don't leave much up to the imagination

13. Magic-maker, wish me one wish, hold me to your light and maybe, oh what if I say, why don't we play?

~~14. I think I'm gonna be sad, I think it's today, yea, the girl that's drivin' me mad is goin' away~~
(again, pretty quick :-P)

~~15. And I'd give up forever to touch you cuz I know that you'd feel me somehow~~
(my iPod's not huge on subtlety right now)

16. On the floors of Tokyo or down in London town to go-go with the record selection and the mirror reflection

17. I'm slipping away, in every way. I can't stay awake. I'm slipping away.

18. I took a river and it wouldn't let go. I want you to stay and I want you to go.

19. All along, we follow blindly, force-fed prime time, printed nightly. Why would anybody leave the safety of their homes?

20. We took a walk that night but it wasn't the same. We had a fight on the promenade out in the rain.

Making Up for My Mistakes, Chapter 6: Sawyer

2008-01-11T03:38:17Z

Title: Making up for my Mistakes
Pairing: ConMama
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers from Season One, the beginning of Season Two, and Episode 3x4, Every Man for Himself.
Summary: Sawyer learns of Charlie's continued drug use, and knows he has to tell Claire.
Disclaimer: I don't own LOST. If I did, well, let's just say we couldn't air it on basic cable.
Status: Complete
Note: This is taking place right after What Kate Did, and in this universe, The 23rd Psalm is not taking place, and never will, but Clementine does exist, and Sawyer knows about her. This is also my first fan fiction, so don't hold back with the criticism, I need to learn.
Another note: Well, this is the end. It's still not perfect, but I think this chapter is the most well writen. Maybe not the most in character, but, I'll let you guys be the judges of how well it came out.

Chapter 1: Aaron
Chapter 2: Sayid
Chapter 3:Locke
Chapter 4:Charlie
Chapter 5: Claire

Chapter 6: Sawyer

For two days he stayed only in his tent or in the community kitchen. He talked to no one more than was necessary. Kate stopped trying after a few failed attempts at finding out what was wrong with him. He could have been seen looking towards Claire’s tent or in the direction she ran from him, but only if someone was watching very carefully.

She sat there then, reading a thick novel on astronomy. She’d have to read this chapter again. She was finding it impossible to recall even the previous paragraph. Right now, however, it didn’t matter to her. Claire just needed to look busy so no one would ask her about Charlie, or worse Sawyer. So she kept her face in her book and hoped the people around her would leave her to herself.

Before she’d been reading very long, her hopes were dashed as a long shadow fell into her field of vision.

“I’m sorry, I … I can’t really talk, umm… Aaron’s been fussy and…” The excuses fell flat as she looked up and met eyes with her visitor.

“I think we might need to talk, eh Mamacita?” Sawyer’s voice was low and he shuffled one of his feet back and forth in the sand like a guilty child.

“Yea, umm, come inside,” she stood quickly and held back the flap to the tent Charlie built her. Sawyer hesitated and looked back to his own tent. He considered turning and running. Even he wouldn’t have been able to say why he was there, and the safety of his tent would be preferable to the conversation he could see in his near future. He ducked under the low entryway anyway and sat himself on her cot. She followed him in and sat as far away as she could while still sitting next to him.

They each studied their hands as though they contained the secrets of eternal life. After a minute or two, they both looked up and tried to start something. They immediately looked back down, more embarrassed than they’d been before they’d spoken.

Sawyer spoke softly, still addressing his lap, “I got a daughter.”

Claire turned her head towards him, shocked at his revelation, but more at her surprise. It was painfully clear at that moment how little she knew about the man next to her, but right now seemed an odd moment to tell her this.

“Umm, why…” She was cut off before she reached full volume.

“I don’t see her. I’ve never seen her. I’m not even sure how old she’d be, I’ve only just seen her picture.” He plowed through his sentences, determined for this to take no longer than it had to. “Her mama put me in jail. I conned her. I left before I knew. She thought all I wanted was her money and she had me arrested.”

Claire watched the side of his face, losing all thought of interrupting. It occurred to her that she was the only one who’d heard any of this.

“I left her some money, but she won’t know who left it. She won’t ever know me, but I think that’s better. I’m no good. Nothing I do turns out good. I don’t deserve a chance with her.” For the first time, he stopped. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers slowly through his hair. His hands fell back to his lap, and his eyes came to focus just short of the crib in front of him and the sleeping child inside it.

Claire waited for him to continue. For a few minutes it seemed he wouldn’t, that he’d already said too much, and couldn’t say anymore.

“That’s why.”

If anyone outside the tent had been any louder, if the waves had been crashing any closer, if the wind had been any stronger, she wouldn’t have heard him. She held back the urge to ask more of him and let him go on himself.

“I know I’m no good, and bad things always happen around me, and I thought, this time, maybe… I could… be better, but,” he paused and sighed deeply, “I just made things worse. I told you because I wanted to think that I was a good person and that someday I might deserve to know her, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen.” There was an ending note in his last word. They sat in silence. Claire had nothing to say yet, and Sawyer wasn’t ready to speak again.

“No.” Claire breathed out the word as she looked back to her hands. “No, you didn’t make things worse. It wasn’t your fault, what happened.” She turned towards him and waited until he looked up at her before she continued. “I would have found out sooner or later, and I’m glad I did. It really is better this way.” Her words seemed to have no effect on him, and his eyes remained as sad as she’d ever seen them. She slipped her hand slowly into one of his still in his lap. He let her tangle her fingers between his and squeeze his hand. He looked back down at their hands intertwined in his lap.

“You deserve better than you think you do, Sawyer.” A tear rolled slowly down one of her cheeks, but her voice never faltered. “I don’t know really who you were before, but the man you’re becoming here is a good person. There are a lot of things not good about the way this worked out, but there’s one very good thing, too. I want my baby to be around someone who knows when something needs to change, and now he can be.” They looked up at the same time. Claire’s tears were falling faster and Sawyer’s eyes were misting quickly. “Sawyer, you did good here, even if it doesn’t look like it,” she went on almost whispering, “and I hope you know that I think you deserve quite a lot.”

The two started at each other, still holding hands. They didn’t more as a tear fell silently from Sawyer’s eye. Claire said nothing as she squeezed his rough hand again and then slid her small fingers out from his and stood in front of him. She put her hand on his shoulder and said again, “thank you.”

Sawyer’s head was filled with feelings at her words. He was amazed she didn’t hate him. He was relieved she saw any good in the situation, where he saw none. He was angry with himself still for what he’d put her through. More than anything else, he began to feel forgiven. He felt pardoned. All his sins seemed to melt away in the light of her shy blue eyes, despite their tears. He stood.

“Thank you,” he breathed. Her hand slipped from his shoulder as he walked out of her tent, looking up at the sky and smelling the sea, as he’d never done before. When he got back to his tent, he pulled a worn piece of paper and beaten-up pen from a pile near his bed. In a slow, shaky hand he began a letter that he would always carry next to the other.

“Dear Clementine…”

The End.

On a Cold, Crowded Street

2007-10-26T00:34:45Z

Title: On a Cold, Crowded Street
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Desmond Hume and Claire Littleton
Prompt: # 65: Passing
Word Count: 334
Rating: G
Summary: On a winter street in Sydney, two strangers connect for a moment.
Author's Notes: No spoilers, just a nice bit of fluff

She tightened the straps on the stroller, and pulled down Aaron’s fleece hat before she left her small flat. The December air bit at her and the baby’s faces until both their cheeks were tinted pink. She pulled her scarf tighter and breathed deeply, taking in the clean winter smells of Sydney.

Their usual route to her favorite coffee shop was lined with people bundled against the unforgiving weather. Aaron happily cooed as he passed a small stuffed polar bear from hand to hand. The streets were alive with the spirit of the holiday season. Silver and gold bells rang and plastic reindeer noses shown from shop windows.

Without warning, Aaron’s piercing cries were added to the jolly chorus of the business district. Claire stopped the stroller and ran around to the front of it to find the issue. She kneeled down to inspect her wailing son.

“I think this is the problem,” Claire looked up at the kind, accented voice. She met a pair of deep chocolate eyes in a rough, smiling face. Aaron’s precious toy bear was in the stranger’s hand.

“Oh, thank you, he must have dropped it.” Claire reached for the bear, still staring into the handsome Scotsman’s eyes. Her hand missed the bear by just an inch and came to rest on his callused fingers. He glanced to their touching hands, and she jumped, her eyes finally pulled from the draw of his own. She snatched the bear from his hand, careful not to make eye contact again.

“Sorry, thanks,” she quickly said as she gave the bear to the baby and he quieted.

“It’s no problem, sistah,” the man smiled to Claire before he turned and went his way down the street, away from her. Claire followed his tall frame as it made its way through the crowd until the other bodies hid him. Her eyes lingered on the path he’d cut through the crowd then went back to the stroller, and she started again on her way.

secret0window @ 2007-07-31T20:14:00

2007-08-01T02:31:23Z

I have communities to pimp.
I'm taking another crack at LIMS style challenges with these two amazing comms.....

badwolf_lims badwolf_lims badwolf_lims

rickman_lims rickman_lims rickman_lims

Don't expect me to hang in the competitions too long, but I still hope to get at least a few entries in.

secret0window @ 2007-07-27T21:51:00

2007-07-28T03:58:10Z

Thanks for the wonderful feedback to Chapter 1! Here's the second installment, and I'm sorry it's so short, I'm an awful awful procrastinator, and many other authors put me to shame with their frequent posting, I'm sure.

Title: Midnight Comfort (Chapter 2/3)
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Desmond Hume and Claire Littleton
Word Count: 633
Rating: G
Summary: Desmond and Claire both need someone in the hotel a few days after rescue.
Author's Notes: No spoilers, unless I’ve unearthed some master plan for future episodes, but I doubt it. ;-) And Penny just sort of dissapeared, don't ask me why because I don't know.

The two stood awkwardly on either side of the neatly made bed. Aaron was asleep in a brand new plastic crib, another Oceanic-funded purchase. The room was tinted gold from the glow of the bedside lamp.

"I’ll just umm…" Desmond motioned roughly behind him to a shady-looking sofa. Both of them laughed lightly more to fill the silence than at anything funny.

"Umm, yea, that umm… should work." Claire realized how little she’d actually thought this through before she’d agreed to it. They both started stiff and jerky motions getting to their chosen places. They looked more like they were miming the actions of getting into the bed and onto the sofa, and doing a poor job of it. Neither made eye contact for a full five minutes until they had both fidgeted in their spots long enough to seem comfortable.

"Well, umm, g’night." Claire’s voice was nothing but hesitant and clumsy as she reached to turn out the lamp.

""Night, sista, sleep well." Desmond seemed more comfortable with the situation, but his voice was still more hushed than usual.

With the light off, Claire found herself staring, as she did every night, at Aaron’s crib. It was situated in the way of the thin beam of moonlight let in by the crack in the curtains. She felt some safety, watching the rise and fall of her son’s chest, but even more when she saw the moonlight also illuminated Desmond. He was shifting his weight on his awkwardly bent legs. The couch really was too short for him, and likely too filthy for anyone, but still he stayed. Claire started at him a moment before her days without sleep made themselves remembered and she fell about as deeply asleep as she ever had.

***

Desmond watched her lay almost perfectly still, facing his side of the room, and watched as she relaxed and her breathing became steady with sleep.

He wouldn’t have guessed that Claire would be one to snore. The rough snort of her exhaling through her nose made him smile as he thought about the small woman sleeping near him.

His eyes were well adjusted to the lack of light, and he could see her curled up on her side, facing him and the baby. He was grateful to be able to help her reach a state peaceful enough to sleep. The night on the island after Charlie had given his life to save them, it seemed as though Claire had lost her safety net, and spent the night in Kate’s tent. Desmond didn’t know if she’d really slept since before he’d taken Charlie out to face his fate. She was sleeping now and for the first time since he’d rejoined the group with his devastating news, she looked truly calm. She had smiled when the rescue planes came, no one had ever seen her cry, only some one paying very close attention would have seen that something was wrong. One would have to watch her every second to see that her bright blue eyes didn’t light up the same or catch the glazed look she got when she thought no one was watching.

Desmond felt terribly responsible for anything that happened to Claire now that Charlie was gone. He felt a surge of guilt everytime he saw her finger Charlie’s note in her pocket. His stomach and throat felt full of rocks anytime her cheeks were pailer than usual or her eyes were slightly red.

Now, watching her relaxed and at peace, he felt a weight lifted from his shoulders, knowing he was doing right by his friend. Seeing her feel safe created a feeling of warmth in him, a feeling he hadn’t felt since he heard Penny’s voice at the undersea hatch, and he too was finally able to sleep.

The Rainbow Connection: Red

2007-07-12T19:38:45Z

Title: The Rainbow Connection: Red
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Desmond and Claire
Prompt: 011. Red
Word Count: 572
Rating: G
Status: Complete
Summary: Claire finds a need for a forgotten item.
Author’s Note: No spoilers, and Charlie is not a part of this at all. The first in a series of one-shots. Muchos gracias to my wonderous new beta,

vpofcake

She kept it tucked away behind her clothes. It was out of sight and certainly out of mind. Her small purple clutch full of makeup was not something she needed here. She hadn’t worn much makeup before the crash and used even less on the island. Everyone had given up on beauty routines once their fate had sunk in and a real camp had been established along with new routines. That was when she stuck her useless bag behind the few possessions she still had.

Claire dug behind the small pile of tops and jeans to find the purple plastic. When she finally found it, she set it on the sand in front of her and opened it. She selected a few shades of eye shadow and a subtle brown mascara. She pulled out a compact mirror and held it in front of her face as she carefully brushed the light browns and golds onto her eyelids.

She hadn’t put makeup on in over two months. Claire was amazed her fingers remembered how. This simple act of preparing herself seemed strange and alien. The more time they spent here, the more it seemed like this was their life. Their routines had begun to change and along with them their mindsets. Now, their old lives seemed wrong, and the island was normal and sure.

She assessed her face in the small round mirror. She liked the way she looked, but something was missing. She reached back into the bag and found a silver tube of lipstick.

The container was in perfect condition and when she opened it, the vibrant red stick was still perfectly formed. She hadn’t used this shade much at all. It was warm as she slid it slowly over her lips. She rubbed her lips together and puckered a few times in the mirror to check its evenness. She took the black hair tie holding her hair loosely behind her face out and let her blonde locks fall around her face in a perfect frame.

She stood and took a deep breath. The compact sat on the ground at her feet reflecting her carefully planned ensemble. She wore a pair of dark wash jeans that had the least sand on them of any of her clothes. Her top was green, sleeveless and sequined. It hung loosely on her so any small breeze would cause it to flutter and catch the sunlight. She walked slowly from her tent towards the camp’s kitchen. Her feet sank lightly in the sand with every step, and a chill breeze ruffled her shirt.

Desmond was sitting on one of the tables staring at his hands folded in his lap. He wore the same unbuttoned blue shirt and tan pants as always, but the usual sweat stains were gone, and his hair was neatly brushed. He turned as she neared and jumped down from the table. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung awkwardly open as he looked from the plain sneakers and jeans over her elegant top past her red lips and stopped on her bright blue eyes.

"You look beautiful." His voice was breathy and soft. Her lips parted slowly over her teeth as she said thanks and looked down to the sand.

The two spoke shortly before taking some food and walking together towards a separate beach. Someone watching could have easily been reminded of a young couple on a first date.

I should be getting back to my two works in progress soon, I just needed a small break.

My handwriting sucks, I'm sorry.

2007-07-10T03:06:28Z

Making Up for my Mistakes, Chapter 5

2007-07-02T22:16:27Z

Title:Making up for my Mistakes
Pairing: ConMama
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers from Season One, the beginning of Season Two, and Episode 3x4, Every Man for Himself.
Summary: Sawyer learns of Charlie's continued drug use, and knows he has to tell Claire.
Disclaimer: I don't own LOST, if I did, well, let's just say we couldn't air it on basic cable.
Status: WIP
Note: This is taking place right after What Kate Did, and in this universe, The 23rd Psalm is not taking place, and never will. But Clementine does exist, and Sawyer knows about her. This is also my first fan fiction, so don't hold back with the criticism, I need to learn.
Another Note: So sorry I’ve been lazy with updating this. Things got really busy for me right after I posted chapter 4 and I sort of lost my muse, but I should be updating a little more frequently now.

(Chapter 5/?)

Chapter 1: Aaron
Chapter 2: Sayid
Chapter 3: Locke
Chapter 4: Charlie

Chapter 5: Claire

Sawyer lay on the airline seat he had been using as a bed and stared at the tarp above him. Charlie had left the beach and no one had heard from him in two days. Jack was busy preparing a search party to find him. Hurley, Kate and Sayid had been the first in line to join him. Claire and Sawyer seemed the only two people in the camp unperturbed by his disappearance. Claire was spending a lot of time with Kate and Sun, but wasn’t talking about Charlie. She wasn’t really talking at all, no matter how anyone tried to get her to. Since Charlie had left, she had barely said five words to anyone around, and seemed content with that. Sawyer had simply tried to keep his distance from everyone, like he usually did.

Today all he wanted was to spend a few hours alone without being asked about the whole thing, or whispered about behind his back. The ordeal was hot island gossip, and his involvement was no small part of the story. Hurley in particular wanted to know everything that had happened, and relayed any small detail he managed to get to the entire island population. Sawyer had made note to remember for future use that if Hurley knew, everyone would know within the hour.

Sawyer sat up and picked a trashy romance novel from the sand. He heard footsteps behind him, and assuming it was Hurley again, turned to face them.

"Listen, Jabba, I ain’t got anything to tell you, so why don’t you just…"

Sawyer lost his words when he saw not Hurley in front of him, but Claire. She was alone and looked her true height. There was no fire in her eyes inflating her past her 5’4" like he had seen a few days ago. The two hadn’t spoken since Charlie had left the beach. She looked ready to turn and run from him now.

"Sorry," Sawyer muttered, "thought you were someone else." He closed his book and set it beside him in the sand. He looked back up at her, his usual cold detachment in his eyes, "So, what can I do you for?"

"Why?" Claire let the simple question hang in the air without continuance or explanation.

"Excuse me?" Sawyer began to sound irritated, unhappy that his time had been interrupted.

"Why did you decide to tell me? You could have kept it to yourself; you could have asked someone else to tell me. Why did you tell me?" Claire’s voice was just above a whisper.

Sawyer stared down at a patch of sand instead of looking her in the eye. He shoved his hand in his pocket and fingered the dog-eared letter he carried with him for comfort.

"I … I know you talked to John," Claire tried to fill the tense silence growing between the two as she wrung her hands and kept her gaze trained on his face.

Sawyer looked up abruptly. The look on his face was cold and hard enough to cause Claire to move back.

"You know what Mamacita, I got a right to some privacy and I don’t really need my motives questioned, so why don’t you just get the hell out of my tent?" Sawyer’s voice rose quickly to a point just below shouting. Claire shrunk back from him.

She stood for a moment, tears forming in her eyes. She searched his cold visage for any hint of softening. When one didn’t come, she turned from him and almost ran back to camp.

Sawyer watched her retreat and allowed himself to drop his shield of cold indifference when he was sure she wouldn’t return.

Her face when he’d gotten angry had taken him back to places he didn’t want to visit. She was hurt and he knew that he was the reason. He’d seen too many young, vulnerable women give him that look. His most vivid memory of torment he’d inflicted was not the most recent. Over two years before the crash, he had hurt Cassidy more deeply than he’d hurt anyone. All the rest he left in debt. He left Cassidy with a baby, and made damn sure she knew he didn’t care. But of course he did care. He hadn’t lived a day since when he hadn’t wondered what he was missing. First steps, first words. He always wondered what sort of damage he’d been doing to his daughter, just by not being there. And if he’d be doing more damage if he was in her life.

Cassidy had given him the same look of hurt when he walked away from her in the prison. Claire’s eyes had dragged him back down to the rut he’d dug himself when he left his daughter’s world.

Sawyer stood and closed his tent the best he could. He sat back on his makeshift bed and placed his head in his hands. He made no sound as a single teardrop made it’s way between two of his fingers.

Making Up for my Mistakes, Chapters 1-3

2007-07-02T22:08:21Z

I'm posting Chapter 5 soon, but I wanted to get these up first so I can link back to them in one place.

Title: Making up for my Mistakes
Pairing: ConMama
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers from Season One, the beginning of Season Two, and Episode 3x4, Every Man for Himself.
Summary: Sawyer learns of Charlie's continued drug use, and knows he has to tell Claire.
Disclaimer: I don't own LOST, if I did, well, let's just say we couldn't air it on basic cable. I also don't own the lyrics to "Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone."
Status: WIP
Note: This is taking place right after What Kate Did, and in this universe, The 23rd Psalm is not taking place, and never will, but Clementine does exist, and Sawyer knows about her. This is also my first fan fiction, so don't hold back with the criticism, I need to learn.

Chapter 1 : Aaron

It was his fifth day out of the hatch. He didn't like that place, it made him feel confined. Besides, how could he like any place that made him spend that much time with Dr. Jack? He didn't care if there was plumbing and plates, it just wasn't worth it. If he really tried, he could avoid that place all together. Freckles could bring him his meds, and his shoulder didn't hurt that bad anyway.

He was enjoying the calm breeze and the warm sun when Mamacita's kid started crying not too far from where Sawyer was lounging. He wondered what she had named the kid, but that thought was soon replaced. He was now wondering why no one was shutting the thing up. Claire was young, but she wasn't stupid enough to leave the baby alone.

Sawyer looked around, and the kid was definitely alone. In fact, the whole beach seemed deserted. Everyone that was out of their tent was a good fifty yards away. Not close enough to hear the baby, and too far for Sawyer to go get them. After about five minutes of telling himself he really shouldn't, and Baby Huey's screaming, Sawyer got up and went over to the hand-made crib.

He looked around the young woman's tent, found a magazine, and started reading out loud. The kid must have had something seriously wrong with him, because it didn't shut him up like usual. Sawyer didn't know what to do at this point. He had never really been the paternal type, so he'd obviously never soothed a crying baby. He would have just walked away, but that screaming was going to give him a headache, and he couldn't just leave the kid all alone. Sawyer wasn't sure if babies could tell that they were alone, but he knew what that felt like, and he didn't want anyone else to have to feel it.

Sawyer leaned down and scooped the baby out of the crib, being careful not to strain his shoulder. Once he had the baby cradled safely in his strong arms, he started gently rocking him.

"This ain't so hard," Sawyer mused partly to himself and partly to the baby. The kid had quieted down noticeably, but was still fussing enough for Sawyer to think twice about leaving him. He checked to make sure he didn't just need a diaper change, or anything else Sawyer could easily provide. The thing seemed fine, but it just kept crying. Sawyer made sure there was no one on the beach near them, and no one in the immediately surrounding forest. Once he was sure he was alone, he did something he never wanted anyone else to know that he ever did, and started singing to the baby.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
It's not warm when she's away.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone,
And she's always gone too long
Anytime she goes away.
Wonder this time when she's gone"

Some movement in the trees made him stop short. Who ever was coming sure wanted the people around to know it, and was making way more noise then any normal person walking through the jungle. The racket quickly ended the moment of silence from the baby that Sawyer's singing had created. About 20 seconds later, Charlie came crashing out of the brush.

Sawyer let out a sigh of relief. Now that the one-hit-wonder was here, he could leave the kid and get back to his chair in the sun.

"Thank God you're here, compadre, you can take Tattoo." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he saw the limey runt's eyes. He'd seen eyes like that before. Bloodshot, dilated, nervous. That boy was high. Sawyer quickly changed his mind about leaving the kid with him. Even a con man knew you couldn't leave a druggie in charge of an infant.

"Son of a bitch," Sawyer muttered under his breath as he started walking away with the baby.

"Hey! What do you think you're doin'?" Charlie shouted after him.

"I'm takin' this kid over there, where he's no where near you."

"Claire left Aaron for me to look after. You can't just take him."

"Yea, fine job you done lookin' after him, Chuckie. Where were you when he started cryin', huh? Tellin' Mamacita you'll watch the kid then waitin' 'till he's asleep to go get high don't exactly make you nanny of the year." Sawyer turned and kept walking away. So she named the kid Aaron. Not a bad name, he thought to himself. Thinking of the name made him think of Claire. How was he going to tell her that Charlie was back on drugs? Everyone knew that he had been using before, but they also thought he was clean now. Knowing he was back on the stuff would hurt her. Wait, why did Sawyer care if it hurt her? He barely knew her. He didn't care about her. Then again, he was walking towards his tent with her baby. It sure looked like he cared, even to him.

"Charlie? What's going on?" a sweet Australian voice called down the beach. Sawyer turned back around. Claire was walking towards them, confused and concerned.

"Charlie, why does Sawyer have Aaron? What's going on?" The Brit seemed at a loss for words, and for once in his life, so did Sawyer.

"Charlie?" Charlie started sputtering, like he was trying to come up with a lie, and falling short. Claire started to advance on him.

"I..." Sawyer started. Claire rounded on him, forgetting Charlie.

"I was reading to him and, well, because he was crying and..." Sawyer didn't know what he found so frightening about the petite blonde, but at that moment, she was scaring the hell out of him.

"And... It wasn't working, so, umm, Charlie gave the kid to me, and he was reading to it to see if that would work, and umm, the magazine ended and so... I was going... to... my tent to... find something else to read." Sawyer took too long telling the story, and he knew that Claire knew that he was lying.

"You know what, I'm too tired to try and figure out what's really happening here, just give me the baby and go home, Sawyer." Sawyer handed Aaron to Claire and left the scene, still feeling very awkward about the whole thing. He could here Charlie and Claire talking in hushed tones as he walked, and wondered what they were talking about. Claire didn't seem to notice Charlie's altered state.

Sawyer knew he would have to tell her what he saw. He just didn't know how. She seemed happy with Charlie. If she was even really 'with' him. He didn't want to ruin that. Which brought him back around to why? Why didn't he want Claire to hurt? Why did it matter to him if he was the source of that hurt? He'd hurt other people plenty of times and it never bothered him. Now he couldn't possibly think of telling that girl something that might cause her some distress. Why did he care?

Chapter 2: Sayid

A few hours after the lonely baby incident, Sawyer still couldn’t get Claire off his mind. He didn’t know her very well, and he didn’t know anything about her situation with Charlie. It seemed to him like the guy was more interested in her than she was in him. It looked more like a pairing of convenience than anything else. He liked her, he was good with the baby, it just made sense. No one really disliked the runt, but no one seemed particularly fond of him either. Claire, and maybe Sayid and Hurley were the only people who harbored anything more than indifference towards the ex-rocker.

Sayid had distanced himself considerably from the group, though. Shannon’s death had taken its toll on him. He sat alone now, down the beach, staring out into the sea. No one seemed willing to talk to the grieving Iraqi, so it was understandable that he was surprised when Sawyer came over and sat down next to him. Neither of the men said anything, and instead continued thinking silently of their personal demons.

The silence was anything but comfortable, though, and Sayid soon ended it.

"Was there something you wanted to ask me, Sawyer?"

Sawyer looked down at his hands, like a child caught in a lie. There was something he wanted to ask him, he just didn’t know how. But if anyone knew about Charlie’s drug use, it would probably be Sayid.

"You and Charlie are friends, right?" Sawyer asked tentatively.

"I suppose so."

"Has he been acting strange lately?" Sawyer didn’t know of any better way to address the habits of the other man, so he fell back on a question that felt like it came out of a pamphlet.

"Why are you asking me about Charlie? It doesn’t seem to me that you two have ever been close." Sayid was uncomfortable talking about him, and was eager to get to the point of the conversation. He had an idea what that might be, but was wary of the topic.

"We’re not, I just…" Sawyer was unsure how to continue. "I jus think…" Sawyer was thankful for Sayid’s continued silence, allowing him to choose his words carefully. "I think he might be using again."

"What makes you think so?" Sayid wanted all the facts before he judged the situation, but knowing what he did, it was difficult not to jump to conclusions.

"Earlier today, he was, sorta, weird, and…" Sawyer trailed off. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell anyone about the situation with Aaron. Without that fact, Charlie’s addiction didn’t seem as harmful, but when Aaron was brought into the situation, it was impossible to ignore.

"And?" Sayid questioned.

"And… he left Aaron alone. I don’t know for how long, or if it was the first time, but…" Sawyer didn’t have to finish the sentence.

Sayid sighed. It was obvious then that Charlie had been impaired in his judgement. "Then I think your conjectures are likely correct."

Sawyer looked over at the Iraqi, and was surprised to see a look of guilt on his face. This was no one’s fault but Charlie’s, why would Sayid feel responsible? He said nothing, and Sayid started talking again.

"It’s my fault that he’s doing this. I showed him the heroin from the plane. I could have prevented this." Now it was Sayid’s turn to look away from the other man.

"No, you couldn’t have. He would’ve found ‘em on his own." Sawyer didn’t know what else to say to him. He knew the whole thing wasn’t Sayid’s fault, but he didn’t know how to prove that. So he lied.

Sayid scoffed and looked back over at Sawyer. He was partly confused, and partly surprised.

"I would not have expected to be comforted by you, of all people. You are one of the last people on this island that I would expect to have this conversation with. Why are you so concerned with Charlie?"

Sayid had asked the question that Sawyer had asked himself countless times since he had walked away from him and Claire earlier that day. Sawyer still didn’t have an answer.

"I don’t know. I just… He can’t just get away with it."

Sayid stared at Sawyer for a bit, then looked back out at the water. Sawyer followed suit, and the two men’s thoughts returned to the problems, now weighing heavier on their shoulders.

Chapter 3: Locke

Sawyer walked down the beach deep in thought. He had talked a little more with Sayid about Charlie's introduction to the Nigerian plane. He had plenty of opportunities to get the drugs and there hadn't really been any way of stopping him.

Sawyer had spent the previous night sleeping in short spurts, and never very well. He was plagued with thoughts of Claire and Aaron when he was awake, and dreams of their worst possible fates when he was asleep. He finally decided sleeping was a lost cause, and left his tent at dawn.

"You're up early, James."

Sawyer had been so deep in his concerns that he hadn't noticed when he entered camp. He turned towards the voice. Locke must have been returning from the hatch as he was heading out of the jungle towards his shelter. Sightings of the man were rare now that the hatch had been opened.

"Something on your mind?" Locke set his pack down outside the opening of his shack. It was difficult not to notice how distracted and worried Sawyer looked.

"Ain't you got a button to push?" Sawyer had enough on his mind without someone else getting involved.

Locke looked down, and looked back up, smiling in a way that only he could, part amusement, part adoration. "I only ask because you seem distressed. If you don't want to talk, that's fine."

Sawyer started walking away again.

"But if you do want to talk, you know where to find me."

Sawyer looked back over his shoulder, and slowly came to a stop. Maybe it would be good to get some advice from someone else involved in the situation. Before the Doomsday button came into the picture, Locke had looked like a forerunner for Claire's affections. He was also very familiar with Charlie and his habits.

"You know what, I think I'm gonna have to take you up on that." Sawyer walked back over to Locke as the other man gestured him into his shelter. Sawyer nodded his thanks as he entered the makeshift tent. The two sat on the floor across from each other. Locke watched Sawyer as he struggled to find a way to initiate the conversation.

"I..." Sawyer looked up at Locke. An unwonted surge of guilt hit him as he saw the look of patient wisdom in his eyes. He must have given Charlie that look before. If Sawyer told him what was going on, that look would become anger, maybe even hatred towards the man that had once seemed his friend. But he had been given one hell of a second chance with Claire, and already he was wasting it.

"I think Charlie's back on drugs."

Just as Sawyer had guessed, Locke's expression immediately darkened. Sawyer told Locke everything that had happened since the previous morning. Locke listened quietly, staring into space, a look of deep concentration on his face. When Sawyer was finished, Locke stayed silent for a moment, thinking deeply.

"Well…" Locke started, "It looks like there’s only one thing to do here." Sawyer sighed and looked down. He had known what he had to do since he started walking away from Claire’s tent hours ago. He had just been afraid to admit it to himself.

"I know," he muttered to his lap.

"Claire has to know." Locke was staring into space again, his chin on his hand, his elbow on his knee.

"I just… I just don’t wanna hurt her." Sawyer decided to tell Locke what had really been bothering him about the situation. He was fully committed to the conversation at this point, and it would be cathartic to get it off his chest. The fact of the matter was that Claire had been at the front of his mind the past 24 hours, not Charlie. This secret escaping would surely hurt Charlie and his reputation, but that didn’t bother Sawyer. The thought of that woman alone and hurt, was what had kept him silent this long. He barely knew her, but he knew that she was sweet and caring. More than that he knew that every time he looked at her holding Aaron, it killed him. Every time he saw them, he thought of all the times Cassidy had held Clementine like that, and he hadn’t been there. He had to do what was right this time.

Almost as though he was reading his mind, Locke said in a low voice "Sometimes what is right, doesn’t make everything better immediately. Things are sometimes going to get worse before they get better." Locke had an aged wisdom about him that Sawyer was thankful for at that moment.

"I could tell her if you want. I’m sure you would like to end your involvement in this soon." Locke started to stand as he spoke, and it appeared he had already taken on the burden. Sawyer sighed and stood with him.

"No, I have to do this."

Locke smiled and put his hand on Sawyer’s shoulder. "It’s the right thing, James."

Sawyer sighed again and said, "I know." The men ducked out of the tent, and nodded to each other as they turned to go their separate ways.

Sawyer began walking back to his tent, thinking of how he would tell Claire. There would be no easy way to do it. He would just have to come right out and say it.

What if she cries?
He thought, I’m not gonna stick around if she cries.

He decided to tell her and leave, no fuss, no tears, just get it done.

He was almost at his tent when he heard an angry voice behind him.

"Hey! I need to have a little chat with you." Charlie was walking towards him with a fevered step. Sawyer ignored him and kept walking.

"Hey!" Charlie had caught up with him. "Don’t walk away from me!" When Sawyer kept doing exactly that, Charlie shoved him in the back, even though Sawyer was the bigger man, and obviously more capable in a fight. Sawyer stopped and slowly turned towards Charlie. He didn’t want to fight with him, he was going to do him enough damage soon, but he couldn’t just walk away when he was challenged. He was hoping the look on his face would get Charlie to leave him alone, but he stood his ground.

"If you tell Claire anything that happened yesterday-"

"Listen, Tattoo," Sawyer cut him off, "I’ll tell Missy Claire anything I want to tell her, and no one-hit-wonder is gonna-"

Charlie punched him with a weak force, and only surprised the Southerner. Charlie stood with both hands up, as if he were preparing to box. Sawyer still didn’t want to fight him, and Sawyer was turning around to go back to his tent when Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him back around to face him. Before he could stop him self, Sawyer’s fist slammed into the side of Charlie’s face.

FanFic 100

2007-06-24T18:06:28Z

This is my table for fanfic100. The challenge is to write a fic for each prompt on a specific subject. I claimed Daire, Desmond/Claire, from LOST. So, expect much Daire-ness from me as I try to fill this table. The prompt will become a link when I post a fic for it.

001.	Beginnings.	002.	Middles.	003.	Ends.	004.	Insides.	005.	Outsides.
006.	Hours.	007.	Days.	008.	Weeks.	009.	Months.	010.	Years.
011.	Red.	012.	Orange.	013.	Yellow.	014.	Green.	015.	Blue.
016.	Purple.	017.	Brown.	018.	Black.	019.	White.	020.	Colourless.
021.	Friends.	022.	Enemies.	023.	Lovers.	024.	Family.	025.	Strangers.
026.	Teammates.	027.	Parents.	028.	Children.	029.	Birth.	030.	Death.
031.	Sunrise.	032.	Sunset.	033.	Too Much.	034.	Not Enough.	035.	Sixth Sense.
036.	Smell.	037.	Sound.	038.	Touch.	039.	Taste.	040.	Sight.
041.	Shapes.	042.	Triangle.	043.	Square.	044.	Circle.	045.	Moon.
046.	Star.	047.	Heart.	048.	Diamond.	049.	Club.	050.	Spade.
051.	Water.	052.	Fire.	053.	Earth.	054.	Air.	055.	Spirit.
056.	Breakfast.	057.	Lunch.	058.	Dinner.	059.	Food.	060.	Drink.
061.	Winter.	062.	Spring.	063.	Summer.	064.	Fall.	065.	Passing.
066.	Rain.	067.	Snow.	068.	Lightening.	069.	Thunder.	070.	Storm.
071.	Broken.	072.	Fixed.	073.	Light.	074.	Dark.	075.	Shade.
076.	Who?	077.	What?	078.	Where?	079.	When?	080.	Why?
081.	How?	082.	If.	083.	And.	084.	He.	085.	She.
086.	Choices.	087.	Life.	088.	School.	089.	Work.	090.	Home.
091.	Birthday.	092.	Christmas.	093.	Thanksgiving.	094.	Independence.	095.	New Year.
096.	Writer‘s Choice.	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.

Midnight Comforts

2007-06-24T17:39:58Z

Title: Midnight Comfort (Chapter 1/3)
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Desmond Hume and Claire Littleton
Word Count: 707
Rating: G
Summary: Desmond and Claire both need someone in the hotel a few days after rescue.
Author's Notes: No spoilers, unless I’ve unearthed some master plan for future episodes, but I doubt it. ;-)

I'm not really sure if I want to continue this. I have a plan for future chapters if I do, so let me know if you really want it continued.

The hallway was empty and almost silent. A clock somewhere ticked loudly through the cold, midnight air. Desmond walked the short distance to the vending area at the end of the hall on the balls of his feet, careful not to make enough noise to wake anyone.

Oceanic had put a good portion of the survivors up in the hotel until they could sort out where they needed to go. Some, like him, were simply waiting for connecting flights home. Others, like Claire, weren’t as lucky. He heard her telling Sun on the rescue boat that she had little family to return to.

Desmond reached the vending machines and stopped to assess the selection. If nothing appealed, there was a bar on the ground floor practically calling his name. He couldn’t sleep, and a few drinks might have been just what he needed. He had decided to try a snack before returning to his old habits.

Deep in concentration over the fare of the machine, he didn’t notice when Claire, holding Aaron, entered the small niche the machines were in. He jumped when she brushed against his elbow reaching towards the soda machine.

"Sorry, just…" She gestured towards the dispenser and nodded, a small awkward smile on her pink lips.

"It’s quite alright, sistah, you just gave me a start," Desmond smiled widely and stepped back, giving her more room to reach the machine.

"Thanks," she smiled again as she selected a canned ice tea. Desmond returned his gaze to the rows of candy and pretzels. Claire shifted Aaron to one hip, took her can, and watched him for a moment before speaking.

"So, you can’t sleep, either?" She must have seen the bags under his eyes or the slight droop in his stance.

"No, but I guess I’m not alone." He smiled at her, "Looks like he’s havin’ no trouble." Desmond nodded towards the baby, sleeping soundly in his mother’s arms.

"No, I guess he’s not." Claire looked down at Aaron, and smiled at him, before turning back to Desmond. "I think I’m still in survival mode. If I fall asleep, I feel like he’ll be alone and in danger. It’s gonna take some getting used to, I guess, having a door that actually shuts, and not running from the others or monsters or polar bears." They both laughed lightly. It sounded like a joke now, all the perils they faced on the far away island. It felt absurd that these dangers had once been their day-to-day lives. But everything they’d seen had left its mark on them. Desmond had been wakened by every noise in his hotel room, sitting straight up in bed, prepared to defend the camp that didn’t exist for them anymore.

"You look like you need a good night’s rest. Maybe if you weren’t alone, you could sleep a bit, and feel better in the morning," Desmond suggested. He looked closer at her, and saw that her normally shimmering hair was flat, and her eyes were just as puffy and red as his must have been.

"Oh, that’s alright, I don’t want you to go out of your way for me, it’s fine, really." She put one hand on his arm, and spoke in a tone that tried to dismiss him on the surface, but something underneath was begging for him to fight her on it.

"Really, it’s no trouble. You need the sleep more than I do. I don’t have a little one that depends on me," he nodded to the baby again. "I’m fine Claire, let me help you."

Claire searched his face. She saw nothing but sympathy and concern behind his chocolate brown eyes.

"If you really don’t mind, it might help." She began the sentence with some hesitation, but something in her was reassuring her as she spoke that it was the right thing to say and that she needed and wanted his help.

"Alright," Desmond gave her a reassuring smile.

"My room’s this way," she pointed down the hall, and smiled back at him before starting off towards the room. He followed close behind her left elbow. She could feel him walking behind her, and felt safer. His presence had already begun to put her at ease.

Chapter 2

A New Life

2007-04-21T18:43:46Z

Title: A New Life
Author: Megan
Pairing/Characters: Jack Shepherd/Addison Montgomery
Word Count: 1,168
Rating: G
Genre: Romance, friendship
Summary: They walked away from the hospital, getting buried deeper in deeper in the pure enjoyment of each other’s company.
Disclaimer: Property of ABC. Just for the record, this would be so much cooler than Jacket or Maddison.
Spoilers: Nothing major
Notes: Very AU, post-crash, explained in story.

The rescue boats had come after 249 days on the island. The excitement of the group was immeasurable as they boarded the first of the dinghies that came to save them. Once they were all back in the real world, they went their separate ways. There had been little fuss for Jack. He had said some short good-byes on the boat. He didn’t need to stick around and reminisce about Kate and her betrayal, the way he’d been unable to save Boone on the night Aaron was born, or the many people that Juliet had hurt after he brought her to camp. He just wanted to get back to the life he’d had before. But it wasn’t the same life anymore. The hospital he worked at had replaced him. His mother had died from heart failure just one month before he returned. There was so much in Los Angeles that had become so different, it no longer felt like his home. He waited for one week, then started the search for a job far away. It didn’t take long for him to come into contact with Preston Burke at Seattle Grace Hospital. He had signed a contract with him within two weeks of meeting him, and moved out to Seattle as soon as he could.

He hadn’t expected to be welcomed warmly, but he hadn’t expected to be treated like an outcast either. The other doctors had shunned him in the cafeteria like the new kid back in grade school. No one talked to him in the hallways and everyone was curt and quiet in surgery. He had been hurt for the first day or two, but had grown used to it after about a week. He was an outsider, and he was clearly not wanted here. The young interns weren’t happy to have another person above them, and would not jump to his orders as quickly as they would for the rest of the residents.

That morning, he had sent the blonde girl, Izzie, to get some x-rays for him, and he hadn’t heard back from her until about one o’clock in the afternoon, when she’d given him a half-assed excuse about being pulled to a surgery. He had seen her with the other girls, giggling, talking, and none of them seemed to be doing any work. He was more than irritated with the way they disregarded his authority, and had tried again and again to get them to listen to him. They never did. They still saw him as the man who’d been all over the covers of US Weekly and People not one month before, and refused to see him as a doctor.

He sat now at a secluded table in the courtyard. He watched the table across from him where the interns had gathered. They giggled and chatted, occasionally stealing a glance over at him or to one of the other tables.

"Is this seat taken?"

Jack looked up and shielded his eyes from the sun. A tall redhead in salmon scrubs was standing next to him. She had a coffee in one hand and a paper plate of cafeteria spaghetti in the other. Jack had seen her around, but hadn’t yet needed to work with her and hadn’t learned her name. Her large green eyes were playful, and a small smile toyed with her full lips.

"No, I guess it’s not." He smiled as she sat down next to him and looked over at the table of students, still laughing over their charts and lunches.

She arranged her food on the table so she wasn’t encroaching on his space, and placed a stack of charts on the chair next to her. She opened one and started reading as she sipped her coffee. She slid some thick rimmed glasses on and looked sideways at him as she started on her lunch.

She finally turned to him. "I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been introduced, I’m Addison Montgomery." She put her hand out and he shook it slowly, and gave his name.

"I used to be a Shepherd myself. Didn’t work out." She looked over to the table of interns, quickly, but long enough for Jack to see hurt rise for a second in her eyes.

"So what brings you to Seattle?" Her countenance had regained its friendly air, and she leaned casually onto the table, putting her elbow in the middle of her spaghetti.

"Umm… You’re umm…." Jack pointed to her elbow and tried not to laugh. Addison looked where he was pointing,

"Crap." She lifted her elbow out of her food, now dripping with sauce. Jack handed her a handful of napkins, but couldn’t keep himself controlled any longer. He laughed out loud and clear, drawing the attention of several nearby tables. Addison looked back at him incredulous, but slowly let herself grin.

"I cannot believe I just did that," she said as she started mopping up the marinera. "I came over here trying to be suave and I end up sauced. This is just wonderful." Her voice bounced with the light laugh coming through it. Jack watched her work at the stain, smiling at more than just her awkward attempts at salvaging the situation.

"It’s alright. I’m sure I would have done the same."

She smiled back at him. "No, no you wouldn’t have."

Jack was silent for a second. "Yea, you’re probably right." They both laughed again, and sat back in their chairs as Addison abandoned all hopes of cleaning her lab coat. They both looked down to her ruined meal.

"You’re not gonna be able to eat that. Why don’t I go with you to get another one?" Jack stood and held his hand out to her. She sat for a second more. She looked into his eyes, her head slightly tilted, her mouth slightly agape. He looked sincere, and the way he was looking down to her, and the way he held his hand out had a genuine honesty in it. She put her hand in his and let him help her up.

"How about I take you out somewhere instead? This barely counted as real food to begin with." She looked at him sideways while he thought of an answer. When he noted the playful glint in her eye, there really was only one. He nodded and said all right.

The two walked toward the door, past the giggling interns. One of them pointed to Addison’s red elbow and whispered to the girl next to them. Jack put his hand on the small of Addison’s back and led her past the group, and out the front doors onto the unwontedly sunny Seattle streets. The pair started walking down the street towards a small café about a block down the road. The two talked and laughed, Addison lightly hitting Jack on the shoulder, and Jack placing his gently on hers. They walked away from the hospital, getting buried deeper in deeper in the pure enjoyment of each other’s company.

Making up for my Mistakes, Chapter 4

2007-03-21T02:46:59Z

Title: Making up for my Mistakes
Pairing: ConMama
Rating: PG
Warnings: Spoilers from Season One, the beginning of Season Two, and Episode 3x4, Every Man for Himself.
Summary: Sawyer learns of Charlie's continued drug use, and knows he has to tell Claire.
Disclaimer: I don't own LOST, if I did, well, let's just say we couldn't air it on basic cable.
Status: WIP
Note: This is taking place right after What Kate Did, and in this universe, The 23rd Psalm is not taking place, and never will. But Clementine does exist, and Sawyer knows about her. This is also my first fan fiction, so don't hold back with the criticism, I need to learn.
(Chapter 4/?)

Chapter 4: Charlie

“Charlie!”

“Sawyer!”

Claire and Kate came quickly down the beach towards the two men.

Sawyer saw Claire and immediately turned away from the pair. She was holding Aaron, and she looked confused and angry. He couldn’t possibly tell her what he needed to. Judging by the way she was concerned for Charlie, she wouldn’t accept what he had to say to her. She had gone over to him and was inspecting his face the best she could with a squirming toddler in her arms.

“Sawyer, what’s going on?” Kate had approached Sawyer as Claire had approached Charlie, but instead of comforting and caring, she was accusing and annoyed.

“Nothin’,” Sawyer said in a gruff whisper as he made eye contact with Charlie over her shoulder.

“No, this isn’t nothing.” Claire’s voice was louder than normal, and everyone’s eyes went to the young mother as she seemed to swell to match her volume. “Something is going on here and I want to know.” Her voice cracked noticeably on the last word, and her face rippled with emotion, but only briefly.

She hadn’t taken her eyes off of Sawyer. It was clear that she wanted her answer from him.

“Claire…” Sawyer took a small step towards the blonde and away from Kate. Everyone was startled by his use of her real name, but even more so by the personal tone he took it with.

The two stared each other in the face, and the rest of the world seemed to slowly fade out, as though someone had put it on mute.

“Claire, you don’t…” Sawyer felt a gut-wrenching surge of guilt when a single tear slowly rolled down her cheek.

“Please.” Claire was on the brink of breaking down, and could barely get the simple word past her lips.

Sawyer looked in her eyes for a minute, and everything he’d heard the past few hours replayed in his mind. He thought about Sayid’s guilt, Locke’s anger and his own varied emotions. He thought about the harmless woman standing in front of him and the innocent child on her hip.

“I can’t tell you, I’m sorry.” Sawyer’s voice was just loud enough for her to hear him, a low and private murmur. He turned away from her, his eyes toward the ground.

The world came slowly sliding back into focus as Kate and Charlie stirred back into the scene. Charlie was relieved at Sawyer’s silence, and Kate stood back, confused.

“You’re a coward.”

Sawyer looked back up as Claire raised her voice beyond normal speaking level.

“I don’t know what you’re afraid of. I don’t even really know what I’m asking you.” Claire had lost her hold on her emotions, the tears rolling freely down her cheeks to fall from her chin. She stopped for a second to catch her breath.

“But I’m asking you to please just tell me.” Her blue eyes met his again, and the clarity in them, the obvious hurt, broke something in Sawyer. He could stop this right now, keep it from spiraling out of hand. He could do this one thing and be, just this once, the good guy.

“Alright,” he breathed out slowly and took a step towards Claire. She held eye contact and her ground.

“I…” Sawyer began, but didn’t know how to continue. How could he tell her that the life she was building was balanced on a lie? That someone she trusted this much had betrayed her again?

“I… I don’t really know how to say this, but, uh, those… those Virgin Mary statues that Charlie’s been carrying around?”

He was poised to continue, but Charlie was poised to attack. He came up closer to Claire and started protesting.

“He’s lying. That’s all he ever does anyway. Don’t listen to him. I don’t even know what he’s talking about.” But Claire either wasn’t listening or just didn’t hear him. She kept looking at Sawyer, and knew he wasn’t going to lie to her. She didn’t know how she knew, but something in his eyes said he was done lying.

“Claire, they ain’t just statues.” Sawyer went on, too far in now to take it back. “They’re hollow, and somebody filled ‘em with heroin. I think… I think he’s using again.”

Claire’s eyes darkened, her lip quivered, and her stance deflated. She turned to Charlie, and asked, “Is he right?”

Charlie paused for a second, and looked to Sawyer before he answered, “Of course not, I wouldn’t do something like, like that, not something that could hurt you and Aaron.” Claire had seen his moment of hesitation, and the panic in his face as he talked to her. It was an evident lie. She shrank back further, and brought the baby in tight to her chest. The tears fell faster from her wide eyes.

“You’re lying.” Her voice was barely audible, and the color was rising in her face. She started backing away from Charlie, and repeated herself, but she was shouting now. Charlie started following Claire, protesting his innocence, but Kate stepped between them, keeping him back as Claire started back towards her tent.

Sawyer felt frozen to the spot. He said nothing as he watched his words tear apart another happy family.

My Angel

2007-02-04T06:44:26Z

Title: My Angel
Pairing: Daire
Rating: PG-13
Status: One-Shot
Summary: Desmond encounters Claire in a weak moment.
Disclaimer: I don't own LOST, or any of it's characters. I'm using them all at the mercy of their wonderful, amazing, brilliant creators. Besides, I'm much too poor to sue.

I was always mesmerized by the way she looked, the way she moved. Her blonde hair framed her pale skin to give her a heavenly glow. She looked like an angel, and that's what I called her. My angel. I couldn't help but watch her go about her daily tasks with a wonder. Talking to people, taking care of Aaron. I had only been able to talk to her directly twice. Once I was piss drunk, and didn't know much of what I was saying. The other, I was just offering to fix her roof, but I was alert, and preserved in my mind every word that she said to me, but Charlie had intruded, and my moment had ended.

I still loved Penny, but I had been without her for so long. I was alone for so long. I was starting to feel alone inside. I didn't think that was possible. I never expected anything to come of my obsession with that angel anyway, she never seemed to notice me. I just watched her in her happiness from afar.

Nothing ever seemed to bring her down. Her happiness and the happiness of her child seemed to be the only thing that mattered in the world. That, and perhaps Charlie, but that union wasn't all it was cracked up to be. The happy family they portrayed had fooled me, along with the rest of the island, but the truth was revealed to me in one startling hour, and I will never forget it.

***

As wonderful as it was to be around people, I had gotten used to the solitude of the hatch, and sometimes longed for a quiet place to think when the chatter of the island community surrounded me. There was no chance of finding a silent strip of beach without taking an extensive trip, so every so often, I would go a ways into the jungle where the fruit trees were barren, and people rarely visited.

This time, I had heard three separate couples having heated arguments, and was feeling a need to be alone. Bernard and Rose were having control issues again, Jin and Sun were shouting at each other not far away, and Nikki and Paulo were in disagreement over the role they were playing on the island. I needed a break.

I was about ten meters from my usual spot under a fig tree, when something stopped me. There was a small sound from behind the tree. It sounded like a mix between a sniffle and a whimper. It was far from threatening. It sounded like someone was stifling sobs.

I should have turned around, gone somewhere else, listened to my instincts and left them alone.

But I didn't.

I walked towards them, careful not to startle whoever it was. As I rounded the tree, they looked up at me.

Her long blonde hair was disheveled, but still curled perfectly down to her shoulders. Her face was red and puffy, but it seemed to only to highlight her sky blue eyes. Her mouth hung slightly open as she released the hem of her shirt from her hands. She had been twisting it around her delicate fingers, and was stretching the elastic of the simple blue tank top.

She quickly shut her mouth, and began wiping the tears from her face and eyes. She began to stand as she spoke in a cracking whisper.

"Oh... I'm... I'm sorry... I'm going back to the beach... I didn't know anyone came here..."

Before she could stand all the way, I bent down to her, and placed my hand on her shoulder. I followed her gaze, not letting her avoid eye contact like she wanted to. I didn't know this woman very well, but I knew that my angel didn't deserve to be crying alone in the jungle.

"Claire, you've got nothing to be sorry about. Sit back down." I motioned towards the ground under the tree.

She looked at my hand and looked back at me, but continued to stand, insisting that she was at fault somehow, and should be leaving. But her arguments were losing strength, and I could see that she didn't want to fight this anymore. Her voice trailed off into silence, and she looked back into my eyes. For a second, I couldn't see anything in those eyes that would explain her current position, but as she looked at me, her guard slowly came down. I began to see the pain that she was feeling. Bit by bit her entire visage started to show everything that she had been keeping from everyone else. She slowly sank to the ground, and I sat next to her, never letting go of her gaze.

She looked back down into her lap, choking back her tears. She looked over to me, obviously wanting me to say something. I obliged.

"Would you like to tell me what's wrong?"

"Not really, but I suppose it might help." She sighed and took a moment before she continued.

"Whatever you think, sister." I looked at the side of her face as she thought deeply. I didn't know what she was thinking, but I knew better than to interrupt her. She started in a whisper addressed more to her hands than to me.

"It's... It's just everything. I... I don't think I'm doing the right thing staying with Charlie. He cares for me, I know that, and he loves Aaron, but..."

She didn't want to finish her sentence. I didn't press it. If she wanted to talk, she would, I couldn't make her tell me her issues with Charlie if she wasn't willing to tell me them. I didn't know either of them well, and was far from a force in their relationship.

She took a deep breath, made up her mind, and went on.

"He gives me unwarranted parenting advice, he's never given me a reason to trust him before, and he's incredibly jealous. I just... I just don't know if I want that kind of man helping me raise my son."

I was a bit shocked by her bluntness. I had trouble believing that their relationship was this flawed. They had looked so happy together. I knew he cared about her and her baby, but I had assumed she cared about him just as much.

I didn't say anything, as I wasn't sure if she wanted an answer from me. A few seconds passed, and she sighed again, and rested her head on my shoulder.

I started a little, but she didn't move. This symbol of intimacy seemed too sudden, but somehow felt right. She had opened up to me, and I had listed, it was logical that we would be closer than we had been a few minutes previously.

I cautiously put my arm around her, drawing her in closer. She turned her head to my shoulder, and began to cry again, but softer this time. I rubbed circles on her shoulder with my thumb and whispered meaningless words of reassurance to the top of her head.

She seemed to have gotten it out of her system, but we stayed that way for a few minutes. She slowly lifted her head off of my now wet shoulder, looking up at me. I looked back at her, unsure of what exactly the look in her eyes meant. She lifted her arm up, and put it on my shoulder, close to my neck. This time, I didn't need to try to keep her eye contact. We both looked each other right in the eye, barely blinking. It seemed like we were closer together than we had been before.

I lowered my head towards her as she lifted hers toward me. Our lips met slowly, in a lighter kiss than I thought was possible. We didn't deepen it, but stayed locked together for a few seconds before she broke the kiss. We stared into each other's eyes again, neither of us sure what to do next.

I looked at the young woman before me, and thought of everything I had seen her do and heard her say. She didn't love him. If she loved him, she wouldn't be here now. She wouldn't have kissed me. She wouldn't have told me all her doubts of him. All of the times I had watched her, a strange feeling had started in the pit of my stomach, but that was nothing compared to the sensation I was experiencing now. I felt like my heart would beat right out of my chest, and my face felt hotter than the sun.

I lowered my face back to hers, kissing her harder than before. She responded immediately, deepening it even further. I wrapped my free arm around her waist and pulled her even closer to me. She shifted so that she was on her knees, as I slowly parted her lips with my tongue. I pulled back for a second, and maneuvered her onto my lap, moving my hands to her waist. She put hers behind my head, and I could feel her exhale on my cheek as I started kissing her neck.

I was starting to move my hand up to entwine my fingers in that golden hair, when she started to whisper again.

"Desmond... Desmond, we have to stop... please..."

It was clear in her voice that she didn't want to stop, but I pulled back, and she rested her forehead against mine. She spoke again.

"I can't, I can't do this now. I want to, I know I want to, but I just... I just can't."

"I understand." I whispered, and started to release her. She made no immediate effort to leave, but stayed on my lap, with her fingers in my hair. After a minute, she started to stand, whispering that she was sorry.

She left quickly, looking back at me only once. I stayed sitting there, watching the trees where she had left me. Those few minutes would be in my memory for a long time, I was sure. But watching her go after she had said that she wanted to stay would be with me even longer. I didn't know if she loved me, I didn't know if there had really been anything there besides momentary lust. All I knew was that I had been close to her and it was more than I could have imagined. I knew I should have been guilty, I had snogged another man's woman. I knew how much that would hurt. But I wasn't guilty. I felt a million different things. But not guilt. I knew she wasn't happy with him, I knew from her words, and I felt it in her kiss. I sat at that tree for an hour, remembering and savoring the kiss of my angel.

Welcoming myself to LiveJournal :D

2006-07-25T04:05:00Z

So, this is my first entry in my LiveJournal!! oooooo, exciting.

Ok, well, I'm not big into blogging, so there won't be a whole lot of that, unless I feel like it, which I might, but I do surf communities, so, you might see me there, I'll probably post in a couple of those too.

Wow, if that's^ not a run-on sentence, I don't know what is.