Ficklemuse

Recipe: Garlic Scape Pesto

2007-07-07T17:27:39Z

I just tried this recipe today and I had to post it.

Garlic scapes (no, not SNAPES) are the flowering tops of the garlic bulbs. They look like really long and loopy green beans. They're available usually mid-June and not available for very long. They have a very mild garlic flavor without that hot garlic bite.

Garlic Scape Pesto:

Ingredients:
1 cup garlic scapes (about 8 or 9 scapes), top flowery part removed, cut into ¼-inch slices
1/3 cup walnuts*
¾ cup olive oil
¼-1/2 cup grated parmigiano
½ teaspoon salt
black pepper to taste

Method:
Place scapes and walnuts in the bowl of a food processor and whiz until well combined and somewhat smooth. Slowly drizzle in oil and process until integrated. With a rubber spatula, scoop pesto out of bowl and into a mixing bowl. Add parmigiano to taste; add salt and pepper. Makes about 6 ounces of pesto. Keeps for up to one week in an air-tight container in the refrigerator.

*I used 1/3 cup pine nuts because that's what I had on hand. I also added a little bit of lemon juice because I saw it in another recipe.

It really turned out delicious. I'm thinking it would make for a really good potato salad.

A definite plus over regular pesto - scapes are MUCH cheaper than basil.

LOST: Boone/Sawyer

2007-06-27T04:45:49Z

Title: Too Much
Fandom: Lost
Character: Boone Carlyle/James ‘Sawyer’ Ford
Prompt: 033. Too Much
Word Count: 717
Rating: PG
Author’s Notes: For slash_100

This is part of a series of short pieces that can be found here:
My Table and the Reading Order for the Stories

Boone found Sawyer exactly where he expected him to be. The sun was just coming up and Sawyer hadn’t bothered to light more than one torch and stick it in the ground near the waterfall.

He watched Sawyer in silence, not kidding himself that Sawyer hadn’t heard him coming. Boone was very competent on his crutches, but not very quiet. Sawyer’s back was to him. He had one arm thrown up against the sharp rock and rested his forehead against it while the water cascaded over his body. As Boone watched he could see the rivulets of blood, sweat, sand and dirt wash away. Sawyer’s shoulders hunched and he seemed perfectly still, which for Sawyer was an unnatural state.

Boone propped his crutches against a palm tree and limped to the edge of the water. He was so accustomed to the waterfall and the surrounding pool he knew the quickest way in. He didn’t bother taking off his clothes, they weren’t as important as what was in front of him. He swam the length of the pool and pulled himself out right behind Sawyer.

Now that he was close, Boone saw the way Sawyer’s shoulders shook – just a little – and the way his fingers were digging into the rock as though it was the only thing holding him up.

Boone worked his way between Sawyer and the rock wall, taking almost all of Sawyer’s weight against him. One arm wrapped around Sawyer while the other hand slid beneath his hair at the back of his neck and pulled Sawyer’s head down onto Boone’s shoulder. Sawyer’s breath is ragged and uneven. Boone can feel his body shudder with the force of it. He can’t bring himself to say anything. He can’t tell Sawyer that it’s going to be alright. He can’t say that they’re safe now or that help is on its way. It won’t be alright. They aren’t safe now and as far as anyone knows help is never coming.

None of Boone’s words will take away the fact Sawyer spent the early hours before the dawn digging graves for their friends and moving their bodies. There were also the ten ‘Others’ who were dead. All of it was overwhelming and as he leaned against the waterfall, holding Sawyer up, Boone could feel the crushing weight of it on the both of them.

The walk back to the caves is silent.

Silence from Sawyer is disturbing in and of itself, but combined with the almost glazed look in his eyes, Boone can tell that Sawyer’s not quite there. At least, not all of him. He considers going to look for Jack, but the last time Boone saw Jack he was literally up to his elbows in blood. So instead he simply pulls Sawyer into bed and wraps himself around him from head to toe like a living security blanket.

Boone’s reached the point where he’s too tired to sleep himself, so he keeps watch. Sawyer sleeps strangely. Boone noticed it before when Sawyer was first back from the raft and recuperating in the hatch. Some nights he falls asleep and yet his whole body is rigid – almost as if he’s been paralyzed. There have been times when Boone will wake up and find Sawyer holding his breath. He’s even opened his eyes and his mouth as if to scream but nothing will come out.

He knows better than to push hard. Sawyer can fight ‘hard’, Sawyer’s built up a resistance to ‘hard’. His whole life, Boone would bet, was filled with it. Sawyer would rather take a punch than be caressed. Boone knows that about him but what made him that way is still a mystery. Boone wages war against the demons in Sawyer’s head the only way he can – softly and sweetly.

It’s all the little things: his face rasping against the 5 am shadow along Sawyer’s jaw, the damp skin of his calf between Sawyer’s legs, fingers carding through the tangles in Sawyer’s hair – just sifting through it as if the world outside their hut doesn’t exist.

When Sawyer pulls Boone’s arm more securely around his chest and uncoils some of the tension in his limbs, Boone is reminded of the fact there are small victories to be found even in the face of loss.

LOST: Boone/Sawyer

2007-06-11T20:05:00Z

Title: Hit the Beach
Author: ficklemuse
Characters: Boone Carlyle/James ‘Sawyer’ Ford
Prompt: 032. Sunset
Word Count: 1,191
Rating: PG
Author’s Notes: This is part of a whole series of short fics for the
slash100 community.

Other parts, my table of prompts and the order to read them in can be found here:
Look Here

032. Sunset

“What kind of fresh hell is this?” Sawyer came up the path to his and Boone’s house to find Shannon already there with a bag of crap and she was hauling it to their place. “Oh no. Hold up there Beach Blanket Barbie! Where do you think you’re taking that?”

“I’m staying with Boone.” Shannon opened the gate in front of the hut. “He said I could.”

“Oh Sweetness! Sweetness get your ass out here I’m about to make you an only child!”

Boone appeared and pat Shannon’s shoulder in passing. “Sawyer…”

“No!”

“Look, it’s just for the night. Shannon and Sayid had a big fight and she just needs to cool off. I promise, I’ll talk to her and she’ll go back to the beach in the morning.”

“No.”

“It’s just one night.”

“Don’t care.” Sawyer whistled at Shannon. “Excuse me, I said ‘no’!”

“Yeah, I heard. You said it loud enough.”

“Then why are you still putting your crap in my house?”

“Because I know how this is going to go. You’re going to huff and you’re going to puff and then Boone will bat his eyelashes and you’ll give in because you’re like the single most whipped man on this island and possibly the world…” Shannon tilted her head to one side. “Of course I’ll have to research that once we get back to the real world but I’m pretty sure it’s true.” She ducked inside the house.

“Boone…”

“Just one night. I promise. If she doesn’t go back to Sayid first thing in the morning I’ll kick her out myself.” Boone wrapped an arm around Sawyer’s waist. “Please? Shan’s just having a hard time.”

“What’s in it for me?” Sawyer grumbled. He might be going a little soft over the kid but that didn’t mean he was going to be a pushover.

A slow, beautiful smile crossed Boone’s face and he leaned into Sawyer and pressed his lips against Sawyer’s ear. He whispered for several minutes, his face flushing and fingers rubbing over Sawyer’s chest.

Sawyer swallowed several times and rested his hand on Boone’s hip. “Yeah?” He finally managed to croak out.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.” Sawyer sighed. “Fine. Get me a bottle of booze and one of the sleeping bags. There’s no way I’m sleeping on the beach without some alcoholic consolation.” He rolled his eyes at Boone’s beatific smile and a small voice in the back of his head – that sounded disturbingly like Shannon – murmured ‘pushover’.

Sawyer weaved in between the different fires on the beach. Michael and Sun sat silently near her tent. Michael looked like the inner circle of hell since Walt’s kidnapping and Sun didn’t look much better since Jin’s death. Just seeing the two of them made Sawyer feel sick. He made a mental note to offer to go out and help Michael look for the kid in the morning. Hurley, Charlie, Claire and Kate were all laughing at something the new blonde chick- Libby had said. He gave Kate a half wave on his way past. Rose andher old man gave him a smile when he moved past their tent. In spite of the warm welcome, he felt strangely exposed on the beach after the relative protection of the caves. Eventually he found who he was looking for. “Ya know, it’s got to be hard on the old ego when your old lady had to come crying to another guy for a place to stay.” Sawyer plunked down in front of Sayid’s fire and got the first hit in.

“Oh yes Sawyer. I am deeply shamed.” Sayid replied serenely. “Would you like some dinner or are you simply here to insult me?”

Sawyer shrugged. “A little of both. You wanna tell me what you did that made it so Princess had to oust me from my own bed tonight?”

“Not particularly.” Sayid answered. He held out a banana leaf with fish on it. “Here.”

“Hey Sayid. I brought you a new bandage for your hand.” Jack appeared and noted Sawyer’s presence with a little smirk. “What are you doing here Sawyer?”

“Can’t a guy just want to visit his friends down here in Kokomo?” Sawyer huffed and cracked open the bottle of whisky beside him.

“Shannon and Boone threw him out.” Sayid snickered and offered Jack some fish as well. “Thank you for the bandage.”

“Nobody threw me outta anywhere Ali.” Sawyer grumbled around a mouthful.

“That’s not what Shannon’s telling everyone at the caves.” Jack chuckled. “She said something about Boone playing you like a scruffy violin.”

“Oh, that’s real sporting. Two against one.” Sawyer swung the bottle of whisky by the neck. “That kind of talk ain’t gonna wet your whistle.” He could see Jack practically lick his lips. “How bout we work out some sort of trade? Whatcha got in that little man purse of yours Doc?”

Jack sighed. “Come on Sawyer, you know I can’t trade you for medical supplies. They’re not mine.” He scowled. “And it’s a backpack – not a purse.”

“You just keep telling yourself that Doc. If we had a deck of cards we could make a game of it.”

Sayid jumped up and ran into his tent, emerging with a worn deck of playing cards. “It just so happens Sawyer I have cards.”

“You want to play poker?”

“I have very little to offer in the way of goods – but I do have several useful skills.”

“And what would you want?” Sawyer could use some of Sayid’s technical voodoo to get one of the iPods he found working again.

“I need more wood. You have a machete and a strong back…” Sayid moved to a small overturned crate and started to shuffle. “Are you playing Jack?”

“Now, don’t go getting too eager. Doc’s got to have something to ante up.”

Jack reached into his backpack and pulled out three books. “Anna Karenina, Paradise Lost, and Lolita.”

Sawyer’s eyes bulged. “Hey! Where’d you get those?” He knew every book on the island intimately and he’d never seen them before.

Jack shrugged. “I stole them from the hatch.”

“WHAT?! You can’t do that!”

Jack’s lips quirked. “That’s your problem Sawyer. You’re still back in civilization. I’m in the wild.” He said parroting Sawyer’s own words back to him.

Sawyer grunted. “Everybody’s a smartass. Well put your books where your mouth is.”

A dozen hands of Texas Hold ‘Em later and Sayid would be getting wood floors for his tent, Jack had won too many of Sawyer’s remaining medical supplies but they were small victories compared to the two brand new books in Sawyer’s possession. They were the last ones on the beach still awake.

Sayid noticed it first and came to his feet, his eyes squinting against the darkness. “Do you hear that?”

Jack and Sawyer jumped up and looked out at the water which was dark and roiling with more than just the waves.

Sayid dived for his tent and came out with the suitcase of guns as the submarine surfaced and a dozen strangers climbed out and started running onto the beach firing.

LOST: Boone/Sawyer

2007-01-21T09:57:17Z

Title: Lost Together
Author:ficklemuse
Fandom:LOST
Characters:Boone Carlyle/James 'Sawyer' Ford
Prompt:088. Lost
Word Count: 953
Rating: R (but really just for Sawyer's foul mouth)
Author's Notes: Another part of this series: http://community.livejournal.com/demon_inmy_view/2085.html#cutid1
Scroll to the bottom of the table for the reading order... Or, you know, read them out of order and be confused. ;)

It was the first night since the crash that everyone gathered around the fires on the beach.

It hadn't taken long for word to get out: the signal fire didn't work.

Everyone was dispirited, there was hardly any conversation. Boone figured there wasn't anything to talk about. There were only so many times people could say 'I can't believe it' while thinking 'we're going to die on this island'.

Sawyer hadn't spoken much either, just monosyllables - but he'd gone into the jungl and started hauling wood out onto the beach until the signal fire was built back up and twice as big as before.

Once he was done, Sawyer found Boone who was sitting with Charlie, Claire, Jack and Sun. He flopped down next to Boone and laid his sweaty head on Boone's good leg.

"Did you leave any trees in the jungle?" Boone lifted his hand and sifted his fingers through Sawyer's damp hair.

"Just the one." Sawyer cast a baleful glance at Charlie. "Yo Ringo, you gonna play something on that guitar or just sit there and fondle it?"

"Ringo is a drummer you moron." Charlie grumbled.

"Not my fault you all sound the same." Sawyer twisted and contorted himself until he was wrapped completely around Boone like the world's biggest eel.

It seemed as though everyone was reluctant to leave the beach, Sawyer especially. Boone knew that no matter what kind of posturing Sawyer did for the other survivors, or even for himself he took things far more seriously than anyone would ever guess. He knew how badly Sawyer wanted off the island and even without him saying a word Boone knew how bad Sawyer felt that he hadn't been the one to signal that plane that would save them.

Mostly Boone felt bad that he didn't feel worse.

Oh, he wanted off the island. But probably not as much as the rest of them and definitely not as much as Sawyer. He had all the creature comforts waiting for him back in L.A. Beautiful house, cushy job that he enjoyed, a lifestyle that let him do pretty much anything that he wanted. But the more time he spent on the island the more his old life felt like a distant memory.

On the island he was part of something. People accepted him for exactly who he was. No hiding behind empty headed lingerie models, no looking for approval from his mother that was never coming, no mind numbing 'networking' just the hard work of surviving and the satisfaction of making it through another day.

He was disappointed about not getting off the island, but not like Sawyer. First the raft, now the signal fire - Sawyer was on a mission to get them rescued. Even though it hadn't worked yet, Boone's got no doubt that it will because he knows from personal experience that what Sawyer wants, Sawyer gets.

He can actually *feel* Sawyer sulking and brooding, even though he knows Sawyer would deny doing either one. Boone lifts Sawyer's head up and kisses him deeply and slowly. He can feel Sawyer tense and coil like a snake about to strike, then slowly just sink into it and forget their audience and everything else around them.

When he finally releases him, Sawyer blinks and licks his lips with relish.

"Not that I'm complaining or nothin', but what was that for?"

"You think too much." Boone pushed Sawyer back down into his lap and continued to comb his fingers through his hair. "Today was a bad day."

"You ain't fuckin' kidding."

"Doesn't mean tomorrow will be. If anyone can get us off this island - it's you."

"Well aren't you just the world's perkiest cheerleader?" Sawyer's words were snippy but the rest of him fairly screamed exhaustion and disappointment.

"Wanna see my pom-poms?"

Sawyer laughed just as he was supposed to. "Baby - I can't think of a single thing I'd like more..."

"Come on guys. Let's keep it 'PG'." Jack scolded from across the fire.

"Why the fuck would we wanna do that?" Sawyer sprung up and pulled Boone to his feet.

"There are ladies present."

""Well hell Doc, we surely didn't mean to offend your delicate sensibilities."

"Oh, don't mind us. It's a bit like watching a naughty movie on cable." Claire waved her hand imperiously. "Go on."

"Thanks for the invitation Mamacita but we haven't quite worked our way up to group sex yet." Sawyer put his hand over Boone's mouth to cut off any objections. "But when we do we'll keep your name in mind."

"Like hell you will!" Charlie snapped.

Jack shook his head but Boone could see the corners of his mouth turning up even if it was against his will. "Boone? Would you get him the hell out of here before people start chasing him with pitch forks?"

"Don't take it personal or nothing Jack about not making the list..." Sawyer taunted as they started to make their way back to their shelter. "It's just that you're such a tight ass I'd be afraid to..." This time it was Boone taking matters into his own hands to stop Sawyer.

"If you finish that sentence not only are you not getting laid tonight - you're not getting laid in the foreseeable future." He hissed the words into Sawyer's ear.

"Night folks." Sawyer called out.

Boone didn't think he was fooling Sawyer. Nothing was changed, they were still lost. But it was better to be lost together than alone.

The 4400 ficlets (Shawn/Isabelle)

2006-06-19T14:20:25Z

Title:Good Enough
Fandom: The 4400
Characters: Isabelle Tyler/Shawn Farrell
Prompt: 096. {Writer's Choice} Enough
Word Count: 790
Rating: G
Summary: Shawn thinks about Isabelle
Author's Notes: Post Season 3 'The New World. Spoilers for 'The New World'.

It's wrong. Shawn knows it. But when it's late and he's exhausted and drained from another day of doing what he doesn't want to be doing and making compromises he doesn't want to make with a burden he's not all that sure he can carry - it's just too much to have to make Isabelle go back to her own rooms. Instead he makes room for her in his sanctuary, in his bed, in his thoughts.

He justifies it, when he has the time to feel guilty which isn't often, because Lily is dead and Richard is gone and maybe never coming back. Isabelle's not a baby anymore but she's sure as hell nothing like a grown woman. The first time she hears of Lily's death - she comes running to him. Begging him to heal her. Begging him not to let the crushing weight in her chest kill her. Even before he takes her hands he knows that he can't heal her. His gifts don't allow him to heal broken hearts. She's grieving and he can't fix her.

But even as he tells himself all of that Shawn knows they're excuses. Even if none of it were true he would still make room for her. It's easy because she fits in a way nothing has since he was taken.

So he spends his days treading water in a sea of Center business. Deals and decisions and does the best he can to help as many people as he can while knowing all the while it's just a huge chess match and everyone from NTAC to the 4400 are just pawns moving across the board.

Once the last report is signed, the last press release authorized Shawn does what he can to heal. These are the people who come to him privately. It's not Center business. There are no photo ops and no cocktail parties. It's one on one. Their lives in his hands. Madylene his assistant brings them to him one after another after another until he can't feel anything anymore.

It goes on for several nights until the night Isabelle comes in and finds him slumped in his chair with four more people waiting outside his office. She says nothing to him, but takes Madylene aside. The others are sent away and Shawn lets Isabelle take him home.

When the door to his apartment closes, Isabelle whirls on him. "Stop. Please?"

Shawn blinks. "Stop what?"

"Punishing yourself. You can't heal everybody. You can't. You used to know that before my mother died. Now that's all you do!"

"Isabelle..."

Isabelle bites her lip hard. Anyone else would wince with the pain of it but Shawn knows that it's emotion that makes her tears fill her eyes. "If you die I won't have anybody. The rest of them hate me."

"They don't understand you." Shawn soothed Isabelle's lips with his thumb, forcing her to relinquish her hold.

"It's the same thing. I'm not human and I'm not really 4400. They don't want me here and they don't want me out there."

"You belong here. You'll always have a place with the 4400." Shawn knew she wasn't completely wrong. Most of the staff were afraid of her and the 4400 who'd thought her the cutest most precious baby in the world were terrified of her power.

"I belong with you." Isabelle grasps his hand. "But I can't be with you if you die. I'll be alone."

"I'm not going to die. I just feel... I feel like I have to do what I can. There are so many people out there who need me."

"I need you more!"

Shawn struggled not to smile. The conversation wasn't funny, but it was a glimpse at the other Isabelle - the one who in many ways was still a child. He brushed her hair with his hand. "I'm not going anywhere. Listen - I promise I'll cut back. It's easy to forget about everything else sometimes. But I'll do my best. You tell me how many people I can see and I'll stick to it."

Isabelle finally smiled, just a slight curve of her lips. "One every day. Except Sundays."

"Why not Sunday?"

"Even God rested then." Isabelle answered. "That was in one of the books you gave me."

Shawn knows damn well that's not a comparison that fits but he can't ignore Isabelle. Somehow it feels right to have her looking out for him. It's wrong to let her carry him even if it's just a little but he's selfish enough to take what he can.

So he lies awake at night on top of the covers while Isabelle sleeps soundly beneath them. He knows it's not a permanent solution but it's enough.

Title: Affection
Fandom: The 4400
Characters: Isabelle Tyler/Shawn Farrell
Prompt: 016. Affected
Word Count: 767
Rating: PG
Summary: Shawn gives Isabelle a gift.
Author's Notes: Set Post- The New World (Season 3 Episode 1)

"Isabelle?" Shawn walks into the suite the same way he walks into any private space Isabelle might be inhabiting - with his eyes cast to one side and down at the floor. Better to walk into a coffee table or a wall than to have to try having another conversation with a completely nude Isabelle.

Not that she wasn't getting better. In the past two weeks she was dressed more often than not - but there were still days... Usually when she was too lost in her reading and research to be bothered with something as trivial as clothing. Shawn thinks it's better to be safe than sorry when it comes to Isabelle.

Which is funny only because of the difference between his old love life philosophy which went something like 'better sorry than safe'. It sounded pithy on paper but the results were pretty grim.

And it's not like Isabelle is part of his love life. She's too young no matter how she looks. He doesn't really know what Isabelle is to him. One minute she's like most of the other 4400 Center students - asking questions he doesn't know the answers to and expecting him to make things better and the next she's the one giving him the answers. Whatever else she might be Shawn considers her his friend. And the more he thinks about it the more it seems as if she's his only friend. Unlike the rest of them Isabelle doesn't care about his abilities and she's not particularly impressed (or impressed at all) because he's replaced Jordan as the face of the 4400. She seems to like him for being nothing more complicated than Shawn Farrell. The guy he was before he got sucked into a ball of light.

"I'm out here Shawn." Isabelle's voice comes from the balcony and Shawn instantly feels a knife-like pain twisting in his gut. He remembers too well that Isabelle jumped off the roof not long ago.

He set down the box he'd been carrying by the sliding glass doors. "What are you doing out here?" Shawn parted the curtains and stepped out onto the balcony.

Isbelle looks up at him from behind one of Jordan's copies of 'The Art of War'. "Reading. There are too many people walking around the gardens. I can't get any quiet in the arbor like I used to." The words are faintly petulant.

"Sorry. It's the open house for fall enrollment." Shawn glanced at his watch. "It should be over pretty soon now and people will be leaving." He crooked his finger at her. "I brought you something."

"More books?"

"Even better." Walking backwards through the open balcony door, Shawn stopped and picked up the large brown box and held it out for Isabelle as she walked in. "I think you'll like it."

Isabelle reached out to take it her hands hovering just an inch away when the contents of the box made a strange sound and she snatched her fingers back.

"No! It's okay. Just take off the lid." Shawn smiles to show her it's alright.

When she does finally remove the lid a tiny golden head pops up over the rim and a pink tongue flicks out to lick her wrist and fingers.

Isabelle's eyes move back and forth between Shawn and the puppy.

"I think he likes you."

"It's really mine?" Isabelle's fingers rubbed over the back of the puppy's neck before she pulled him out of the box and held him awkwardly. The puppy didn't seem to mind how awkward she was he just continued to wriggle and wag his tail trying to lick her face.

"Yep. One of the other 4400 - Ramona, her dog had puppies a couple months ago and this little guy was the last one of the litter."

"What's his name?" Isabelle rolled the puppy onto his back and gave his belly a good scratch.

"He doesn't have one, I thought you should name him." Shawn can almost see the names flashing through Isabelle's mind one after another.

"Rex." She said finally. "It means king. Is that a good name for a dog?"

"I think it's perfect." Shawn's fingers brush over Isabelle's as he pets the puppy. "I've got some food and a leash too." For the first time Shawn can see a true smile on Isabelle's face.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against Shawn's cheek. "No one's ever given me a present before. Thank you."

Shawn's not sure why a single 'thank you' from Isabelle is more valuable to him than just about anything else in his life.

Title: The Shallow End
Fandom: The 4400
Characters: Isabelle Tyler/Shawn Farrell
Prompt: 070. Swim
Word Count: 1,266
Rating: G
Summary: Isabelle goes shopping and she and Shawn have their swimming lesson.
Author's Notes: Set Season 3 – Spoilers for 'Being Tom Baldwin'

Isabelle's excited for her first swimming lesson. All day it's all she can think about. Her distraction gets even worse when Shawn's assistant Deidre comes to her suite and offers to take Isabelle clothes shopping. They go to the mall and Isabelle thinks the mall is maybe the most fascinating place on earth. All the sights and sounds and smells are tangled up.

Isabelle's grateful for Deidre. She had no idea how complicated clothing could be. There are clothes for everything and everyone in every color and shape and size and they all just look so beautiful Isabelle wants to wear them all at once. The first store they go into Deidre shows Isabelle 'blue jeans' even though they come in every color in the rainbow. She tells Isabelle to try on as many as she needs to to find a pair that fit and feel good and then she'll know what size to get. Deidre's is nice and she doesn't laugh or act shocked like the sales lady when Isabelle starts to take off her pants in the middle of the store. Instead, Deidre just stops Isabelle and shows her the dressing room. The dressing room doesn't make any sense to Isabelle because it's cramped and not very well lit and the main room of the store is very spacious and far brighter but she just chalks it up to one of those things that no one understands but everyone goes along with.

Next are the shirts. T-shirts and dress shirts in every material and color and shape. Isabelle loves the soft cotton shirts that are scooped at the neck and when she finds one she really loves she buys one in every color. Deidre lets Isabelle choose whatever she wants, but she does point out some things that Isabelle wouldn't have tried on her own. Like the pretty red silky shirt that wraps around her waist and ties at the middle. Isabelle had looked at it but she wasn't sure about silk. It felt cold to the touch and slippery and she had a hard enough time with clothes without having to wrestle with them.

At one of the stores a salesgirl shows Isabelle a lot of skirts and shorts. She's very friendly until Isabelle asks what the difference is between wearing skirts that short and being nude. Deidre laughs at that and spends a long time trying to explain that some people think wearing less makes them sexier or more noticable. Looking around the mall Isabelle can see a lot of girls with shirts that show their belly buttons or the tops of their butts or jeans that are so low cut they're almost sliding off. She doesn't like it. If she has to wear clothes then she wants it to look like she's wearing clothes.

By the time they buy shoes and underwear and purses and things like that Isabelle's almost forgotten what they really came for - a bathing suit. And there are more choice to be made. One piece or two piece? All sorts of different cuts and styles and it's more than she really wants to think about. In the end she leaves with two suits. A plain green one piece and a bright blue two piece.

Isabelle's grateful for the Center security as they walk back to the car with all their bags because she doesn't think that she and Deidre would be able to make it carrying all their things. It isn't until they're in the limo that Isabelle even thinks about paying for everything.

"I didn't pay!"

Deidre smiled and pulled two bottles of water out of the tiny fridge. "You didn't have to. The Center has a line of credit. I gave them your name and everything will be charged to your father. 4400's get a clothing allowance for themselves and their families. Don't worry Isabelle. You didn't buy too much. All these are things that you need. Actually we were pretty conservative. But if you need a gown or two for special occasions we can always have a dressmaker come to the Center."

"Thank you very much for all your help. I'm sure this wasn't very much fun for you."

Deidre waved a hand. "Not at all! It was a lot of fun. I got to shop with someone else's money and you're so pretty and everything looks so good on you it was like playing dress up. Plus - shopping beats dictation any day."

Isabelle checked the clock again. 4:04. Shawn was four minutes late. She was starting to think he wasn't coming and a tiny ache formed in her throat.

"Isabelle! Sorry I know I'm late but some of these book people go on and on and on. I think sometimes they just like to hear the sound of their own voices." Shawn came into the pool area with a towel slung over his shoulders. Seeing Isabelle sitting on the edge of the pool, Shawn lets out a whistle. "Nice suit. And I bet it'll be easier to swim in than your regular clothes." He dropped his towel on one of the deck chairs and jumped in the water right in front of Isabelle. "Well? Come on in."

Grinning, Isabelle slid into the water and held onto the side of the pool. "I think I have floating down pretty good."

"Good." Shawn moved next to her and placed both her hands in front of her on the wall. "Now hold onto the wall and let your feet float up behind you. Now, kick them."

Isabelle caught on to kicking very quickly and next Shawn had her lay on her back and make tiny motions with her hands that he called 'skulling'. When she faltered a little and started to sink, Shawn put his hands beneath her and held her up with the lightest of touches. "This is much nicer than the way I was doing it."

"Good. Can I let go now? Think you've got it?"

"No. Not yet. I'm feeling very comfortable right now." Isabelle admitted.

"Yeah? Cause I'm freezing. This pool is supposed to be heated. I don't know what's going on..."

"Do you want me to make it warmer?" Isabelle asked without thinking. She was too focused on the safe, peaceful feeling of floating with nothing weighing her down.

"You think you can?" Shawn half laughed at her.

"I think so. Lemme try." It was a little bit of a lie. Isabelle knew full well that she could heat the pool. She'd practiced in the bathtub until she could get it within a couple of degrees of where she wanted it. So she closed her eyes and imagined the water just the way she wanted it. She could see it slowly heating just a couple degrees at a time until it felt luke warm.

"That-that's incredible. How did you do that?"

"How do you heal? It's a gift. Lots of us have them."

"Yeah- but the healing is like one thing." Shawn looked down at Isabelle. "You can do a lot more can't you?"

"Maybe I'm special."

"There's no 'maybe' about it." Shawn smiled and Isabelle felt something strange in her stomach. "You're special and I don't mean just your powers."

"You're special too Shawn. And not just because you can heal people." Isabelle said. "But you have to admit that's pretty cool too. And now we're relating again."

"Yeah, I guess we are." Shawn smiles his little smile at her and Isabelle knows which rite of passage on her list she wants to try next. The first kiss.

Lost: Charlie Pace/Mr. Eko "Bleed"

2006-05-18T03:34:22Z

Title: Bleed
Author: ficklemuse
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Charlie Pace/Mr. Eko
Prompt: 081. Blood
Word Count: 542
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: For slash_me_twice. Spoilers for Episode 22 - Three Minutes. SPOILERS If you read this and get spoiled and blame me Mr. Eko will whup you with his Jesus Stick.

"Charlie you are bleeding."

The feel of Eko's heavy hand on his shoulder is enough to make Charlie bolt up out of the chair he'd slumped in. "Bloody fucking hell! Someone ought to tie a bell around your neck!"

Eko ducked his head. "I am sorry I startled you but I saw you sitting here bleeding. What are you doing Charlie?"

"I hurt myself working on the church alright? I got all the way out here before I remembered out doctor's off playing commando. Figured I'd wait out the dizzy before heading back to the beach." Charlie pulled the dirty t-shirt away from his forehead. "That's if you don't mind."

"Why would I mind?"

"You and Locke - you hatch monkeys tend to get a might possessive over who's touching your buttons." Charlie grimaced at the pain in his head. "Got any idea where Jack keeps the aspirin?"

"You should be more careful." Eko pushed Charlie back down into the chair on his way to the bathroom. "I would not want you to get seriously hurt."

"Yeah right." Charlie drummed his fingers against the chair's arm wishing he had his guitar or maybe a pack of cigarettes... anything to take away the restlessness. "I can tell how much you give a shit Mr. 'Ooh Shiny Button'."

Eko reappeared with two aspirin cradled in his large palm. "What makes you think I wouldn't care if you were hurt Charlie? You are my friend."

"Bollocks." Charlie grabbed the pills and downed them dry. "You're just like Locke. Another wanna be saviour."

Eko's brow furled in confusion. "I don't understand Charlie. What have I done to make you so angry?"

"You lost it. We were building a church. Something good. Something real man, and you went into the jungle with Locke and came out different." Charlie twirled his finger next to his temple. "And not different in a good way either mate. Before you were all about the helping. Now it's all about that button. The button's nothing. Any moron can push a button. But build something? Create something that'll make people feel safe or loved or even pissed off or unsure just so long as they're feeling something? That's worth a hell of a lot more than some button."

Eko opened his mouth and closed it again. "I can only do so much Charlie."

"I know. That's what's fucked up. Everything you could be doing and you're sitting down here playing with a computer." Charlie started to get up again, only to have Eko push him back down. "Oi! Stop that!"

"I want to look at your wound. You can't go back to the beach bleeding like that."

Charlie forced himself to sit still, at least as still as he was capable of, while Eko cleaned the cut and applied the bandage.

"That should do." Eko pulled back.

"Yeah. Thanks for that." Charlie pulled himself up out of the chair, this time managing to stay on his feet. "I'll be seeing you."

"Charlie wait. Don't leave like this..."

"Well if you ever want to pull your Jesus stick out of your ass and start walking the walk --" Charlie grabbed the towel from Eko's hands. "You know where to find me."

Lost Fic: Lost and Found (Sawyer/Boone)

2006-05-11T05:33:12Z

Title: Lost and Found
Author:ficklemuse
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Boone Carlisle/James 'Sawyer' Ford
Prompt: 089. Found
Word Count: 886
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: For slash_100.
My Little Damn Table lives here:
Little Damn Table

They were half way to the waterfall when Shannon suddenly veered off the path and started heaving her guts up. Boone sighed and followed her, holding her up as she puked into the bushes. "You're still not better Shan. What did Jack say?"

"Nothing." Shannon finished and wiped her mouth before taking a huge gulp from her water bottle, rinsing and spitting it out. "Because I didn't ask him."

"Why not? You've been sick for the last two months! I'm worried about you."

"Well don't be. I'm fine." Shannon snapped and started on once again to the falls.

Boone sighed and followed her. There was no point in pressing Shannon. She didn't do anything that wasn't in her own time.

And time was something it seemed they all had a lot of. Two months since the failed attempt to launch the raft and no sign of rescue. Things were just getting back to normal, or as normal as life could be on a deserted island that occasionally liked to make people disappear. People were forming their own makeshift families both on the beach and in the caves and almost every day new couples emerged, were talked about, broke up and re-coupled with someone else. It was very much like a crossover between Gilligan's Island and Days of Our Lives.

But one drama they didn't need was Shannon letting herself stay sick. Boone followed her down the path. "You should see Jack."

"There isn't anything Jack can do for me so why don't you drop it?"

Boone grabbed Shannon's arm and turned her to face him. "Why can't Jack help?"

"Because dumbass, last time I looked Jack was a surgeon not an OB-GYN."

Boone blinked. "You mean you're... you and Sayid."

"Well I'm pretty sure it wasn't an immaculate conception." Shannon huffed. "I'm pregnant okay? So there isn't anything that Jack can do about it."

"How-?"

Shannon's eyes rolled back in her head. "Do I really have to draw you a diagram?"

"Does Sayid know?"

"I haven't told him but I'm pretty sure he knows. We're just not talking about it."

"How long?"

"A couple of months. When I first found out Sun told me there was a plant..." Shannon bit into her lower lip. "I could have gotten rid of it and nobody would have to know. I should have." Surprisingly her eyes filled with tears. "Why Boone? Why didn't I? I even had her give me the plants and show me how to make the tea! I could have done it! Why didn't I do it? It's crazy! It's absolutely fucking insane to have this baby!"

Boone wrapped his arms around her shoulders and carefully pulled her against his chest. "It'll be okay Shan."

"Why couldn't I? I did it last time."

He sighed and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Because you aren't fifteen anymore and Sayid isn't Derek. Sayid loves you. I know he loves you and you know it too. You're not the same person anymore Shannon." He brushed the tears from her cheek. "It'll be okay. I promise."

Shannon pushed herself away and wiped her hand across her eyes in a gesture so familiar from their childhood that Boone's heart broke for an instant.

"Right. I'll remember that the next time you're planning on squatting out a bowling ball."

"That would never be me." Boone shook his head. "Tennis is my game. I'm terrible at bowling."

**

When Boone got back to the house, he found Sawyer laying on one of the benches behind the tall fence buck naked. "You are such an exhibitionist." Boone pointed out with a fond smile. Given the opportunity he doubted that Sawyer would ever wear clothes. Not that Boone particularly objected - it just amused him. Seeing Sawyer golden and stretched out with his head propped up on one folded arm never failed to send Boone's lust into overdrive. "What if Jack came by?"

"What? It's not like the Doc's never seen a nekkid body before." Sawyer gave a lazy shrug and beckoned Boone over with a crooked finger. "Where ya' been?"

"Swimming at the waterfall." Boone walked over and watched as drops of water fell from his hair to bead up against Sawyer's skin. "I would have had you come with but you were sleeping when I left."

"Long day. Got enough bamboo done for Claire's house and caught some fish. Figured I earned myself a good long nap."

Boone started to do his best to disturb Sawyer's nap, but a faint, far off sound made him look up. He squinted and blinked. His brain not processing it at first. "Sawyer?"

"Yeah? What?"

"Look up there. Is that a plane?"

Sawyer shot up. "Where?"

"There!" Boone stood up and pointed. "It's a fucking plane!"

Sawyer grabbed for his jeans and hauled them on. "I think you're right." He gestured towards the beach. "Somebody's got to light the signal fire! If those idiots down on the beach don't see it we're screwed."

"Go! Go Sawyer!" Laughing in pure happiness Boone grabbed Sawyer and kissed him. "You get us rescued and we'll spend an entire day in a real bed."

"Hot damn! I'm on it!" Sawyer took off through the jungle running as if Satan himself were nipping at his heels.

Lost Fic: Absolution (Charlie Pace/Mr. Eko) Prompt: 072 'Safe'

2006-04-14T21:16:02Z

Title: Absolution
Author: ficklemuse
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Charlie Pace/Mr. Eko
Prompt: 072. Safe
Word Count: 413
Rating: PG-13 (a single naughty word means it'll never be a Disney flick!)
Author's Notes: For slash_me_twice

Charlie knows it's crazy. He's probably lost his mind, but he feels safer with Eko than he has since the crash.

Typical. He thinks. A man so bloody dangerous the island backs down from him – and Charlie feels safe.

Maybe it's the fraternity of the fallen altar boys. Or it's because Eko doesn't seem to want or expect anything from Charlie. He makes Charlie feel useful and that's all he needs really. It's the difference between Eko and the rest of the island – the difference between useful and used.

He divides his time between the beach with Sayid – another quiet, calm presence and the jungle with Eko. He avoids Sawyer now because he knows that Sawyer will eventually turn on him and tell everyone he was the one who attacked Sun. There are no illusions about that. It's just a matter of when.

So he stays in his cocoon. Fuck Locke's 'moth' metaphor and while Charlie's at it – fuck Locke on general principals.

And at the end of the day when he curls up on his empty stretch of beach, Charlie does something he hasn't done without prodding for a long time: he prays. Not for things, he knows prayer doesn't really work that way. And he doesn't pray for time. He's trapped on a soddin' deserted island. He's got nothing but time. Instead he's thankful for hi inspiration.

He's been writing music non-stop lately. He writes on candy wrappers left from the Dharma Initiative, he writes on scraps of paper, when there's nothing else he writes out lyrics with a stick in the wet sand. Anything to keep them alive even if it's just until the tide washes them back out to sea.

The music replaces the heroin. It's his addiction of choice. And while his body craves the heroin he can ignore it. He can beat it into submission. Ignore what it wants and replace it with a steady diet of hauling bamboo and climbing trees. Sometimes the ache is overwhelming. He can feel his hands start to shake but then the music pulls him back. And in the hours when even his guitar isn't distraction enough Charlie finds Eko. Sits with Eko either in silence or in patient conversation as Charlie babbles and Eko indulges him.

It's been a long time so Charlie's not sure if what he feels is absolution or friendship. But in either case – he'll take it.

House: Hypothesis (Gregory House/OMC) Rated R

2006-04-09T23:36:31Z

Title: Hypothesis
Author: ficklemuse
Fandom: House, M.D
Summary: While Wilson's away the House will play. (Or some such rubbish as that)
Pairing/Characters: House/OMC
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 850
Author's Notes: Spoilers for all of Season 2

The apartment was quiet. Quiet the way it was before Wilson moved in. Part of House thinks he should be enjoying the return to solitude while he has the chance but instead he just feels restless and bored.

No Wilson, plus no patient, plus more clinic hours equals one bored and cranky House. His team was paying the price for it; Chase -- currently floppy hair deep in House's dictations, Cameron -- answering three months of referral requests and Foreman -- currently intimidating the hell out of the newest neurology interns. Everyone had something to do except for House.

In a desperate act of boredom, he had completed most of his charting for the month. The only upside of being industrious was the look of ultimate shock on Cuddy's face when he handed the charts to her.

Finding himself alone on a Friday night with no one to entertain him at the office House decided to arrange for some entertainment at home.

The Vicodin is just making its presence felt in his system when he turns on the shower. It's a fine line to walk, or in his case hobble, between function and incapacitation. Any more pills and he'd be bored even with his expected company.

Twenty minutes into the shower and House feels like a different man. Not a new one, just a slightly less fucked up one and that counts for something. He's got his robe on and is just retrieving his cane from the end of his bed when there's a knock on the front door.

"Just a second." House walks into the living room and unbolts the door.

The man on the other side of the door is thirty if he's a day and House briefly considers sending him back. The idea of someone Chase's age is more than a little disturbing but he pushes it aside as he steps back to allow the man entrance.

"Are you Dr. House?"

"I certainly hope so." House's eyes raked over the man as he passed: brown hair a bit longer than average, lean, tight build and dressed impeccably in a stark white shirt open a bit at the throat and black trousers.

"Jack. I don't normally accept men as clients."

"Right. Because you ooze heterosexuality." House wonders if anyone ever gets tired of lying.

"Oh, I never claimed that." 'Jack' made his way into the living room and sat on the arm of the sofa. "I just prefer not to mix pleasure with business. But your request got my attention. Most people aren't so direct."

"Directness has never been a problem of mine." House walks up to Jack and places one hand on the back of his neck. "Am I going to have to negotiate kissing?"

"Do I look like Julia Roberts?" Jack replied before surging forward and running his lips over House's.

House finds his trademark smirk literally wiped off his lips before Jack is done. When they separate, House motions the call … boy? Back towards his bedroom. By the time they reach the bedroom House's robe is on the floor in the hall and Jack's shirt is draped over the back of the couch.

Completely naked House reclines in bed and watches his company in open admiration as he strips out of his clothes without once looking awkward or foolish. House appreciates dedication and skill in any profession.

When Jack joins House on the bed they begin what House has already classified in his mind as 'hands on research'. In spite of his reputation around the hospital, House isn't really the type to throw himself headlong into something without some empirical data. And after objectively examining his sexual history he'd found himself sorely lacking in male lovers. As in none – aside from a brief circle jerk in the boy's locker room after a rugby game when he was in school, but that hardly counted.

House is pleased to find that there is something to a 'home field' advantage. It's much easier playing with equipment he owns instead of rentals.

Jack seems to appreciate House's efforts. He twists, hisses, groans and curses very satisfactorily. House isn't sure whether the words are truly passion or by rote but he knows enough about the human body to measure the other man's pleasure as he goes. And in the end none of it is about the other man's reactions. Jack is the lab rat – apologies to Steve McQueen – and as always House is the one controlling things.

By the time they're through with House's 'experiment' it's too late to send Jack away. House doesn't want to examine too closely why company through the night suddenly sounds appealing where it never has in the past. It might have something to do with the way Jack's hair falls over his forehead… just a little. Or the way his heavy arm feels draped over House's chest. Or it could have something to do with the fact that when House looks down he can almost pretend Jack is someone else entirely.

But that's a hypothesis best left untested.

Lost: Boone Carlyle/James 'Sawyer' Ford Prompt: 098. Writer's Choice

2006-04-08T22:29:57Z

Title: Secrets and Sex
Author: ficklemuse
Character: Boone Carlyle/James 'Sawyer' Ford
Prompt: 098. Writer's Choice
Word Count: 1,169
Rating NC-17(ish)
Author's Note: My bad- I just realized I already HAVE a fic for prompt 076. Oops!

It wasn't like Boone was deliberately picking through Sawyer's stuff when he found it. Instead he'd tripped over on of Sawyer's shirts on the ground. He picked it up and the letter fell out of one of the pockets.

The letter wasn't something Boone had seen before. It was thin, written on cheap paper that was starting to yellow a little around the edges with age. The handwriting was childish, and that more than anything caught Boone's attention. It brought home the niggling doubts in the back of his head about his relationship with Sawyer. There was so much Boone didn't know about him. Sawyer never talked about his life before the crash, or what he was doing in Australia. For all Boone knew the letter could be from Sawyer's own son. There could be a wife and family waiting for Sawyer someplace. The fact Boon couldn’t rule it out completely made him feel sick.

He almost didn't open it, afraid that whatever was inside would spoil what was going on in their tiny makeshift house on an island in the middle of nowhere.

But controlling his curiosity wasn't exactly Boone's strong suit.

His fingers pried open the envelope and pulled out the letter.

'Dear Mr. Sawyer…'

"What's the matter? You missing the bunny book?"

Caught – Boone didn't answer right away. Instead h kept reading until Sawyer snatched the letter out of his hands. "What happened? Why does that kid think you killed his parents?"

Sawyer's expression was stony. "Because. I did."

"I don't believe you."

Sawyer folded the letter and put it back into its envelope. "That's because you believe in anything. Hell, you probably believe in the Easter bunny." Sawyer lit a cigarette. "Boy, I don't know who you think you've been sleeping with all this time but I'm a con man. It ain't just something I do it's what I am. Now you can accept it and things can keep goin' the way they've been goin'. Or you can not accept 'em and things'll change. But what you can't do is stand there and lie to yourself about what a bastard I am." Sawyer pulled Boone to him by the back of his neck. "Don't be naive."

Boone fought the urge to hit Sawyer upside the head with one of his crutches. "Be an ass if you have to. But don't stand here with a letter you've obviously been carrying around for years written by a kid and try to convince me what a badass you are." He met Sawyer's gaze without flinching. "You suck at being bad Sawyer. I may be naïve but at least I'm not a fraud."

Sawyer's fingers tangled in Boone's hair and yanked Boone in. He bit Boone's lip and drove his tongue into his mouth.

Boone tried to pull back if only to tell Sawyer to leave his damn hair alone but Sawyer simply kept kissing him until Boone felt the blunt force of lust kick start in his gut. It never failed. Every time Sawyer touched him, kissed him, hell – sometimes all it would take was a look or the sound of his voice and Boone was instantly hard and aching.

Sawyer pushed Boone backwards until he landed on their bed. He didn't have long to wait for Sawyer to join him. Sawyer's hands were quicker than usual in stripping off their clothes. A small part of Boone's brain sighed with the knowledge he was going to have to steal some thread to replace the buttons on his shirt, but the rest of him reveled in the feel of Sawyer's skin next to his.

Until he saw Sawyer's face.

He still looked closed off the way he had when he'd first seen Boone reading his letter. Closed off and cold. Unreachable. Boone didn't know what it was but he knew he had to fix it. Fix Sawyer. Stop him from going to whatever ugly place he was at in his head. Boone grabbed Sawyer's face between his hands and after some struggling took control of their kiss; softening it, teasing, coaxing Sawyer's playful side. He continued the light little kisses while subtly easing Sawyer onto his back. Once he was spread out in miles of tanned slick skin Boone concentrated on mapping every inch of him. First with his hands, then his mouth.

When his mouth ghosted over Sawyer's chest and down his belly Sawyer growled and placed his hand on Boone's shoulder, pushing him down even further. "Boone."

"Hmm?" Boone looked up and playfully licked his lips until they glistened. "Yesss?"

"Don't talk."

"I wasn't planning on it. But just in case I change my mind. Why not?"

"Don'tcha know it's rude to talk with your mouth full?"

"But Sawyer… my mouth's not …" Boone pretended to be shocked. "Hey!!!" bending down he trailed his tongue over the slick tip. "I'd hate to be rude." Siding Sawyer's hardness between his lips, Bone took him deep and hard and fast. He didn't want to draw it out. He wanted to send Sawyer over the edge quickly. Before long Sawyer was gasping his name and practically levitating off the bed. Boone gave his spent cock a final lick and made his way back up the bed. He stroked Sawyer's arms and chest until he opened his eyes again. "You still in there?"

"No. Someone just sucked my brains out. Call back later." Sawyer sighed and leaned his head into Boone's hand for more pets like a spoiled cat.

Boone rubbed up Sawyer's arm and taking hold of his shoulder began to push him onto his side. Sawyer's head jerked up and his green eyes showed surprise and a hint of uncertainty.

Boone stroked his hand over Sawyer's back until Sawyer was laying on his side.

"You sure you know what you're doin' Hoss?"

"I think I've got a pretty good idea." Boone couldn't keep the smile out of his voice. He wedged his good leg between Sawyer's and began to slowly work him open with spit slick fingers and a little help from his favorite island plant leaves that were always conveniently placed under the bed.

It was impossible to tell who moaned first or loudest when Boone entered him. He slid home and stopped buried to the hilt. He pressed his forehead to Sawyer's shoulder and mouthed a hot kiss to his neck. "You feel so good." He purred. He kept stroking Sawyer's chest and stomach before taking him in hand and stroking him in time to his slow, deep thrusts.

It wasn't long before Sawyer was humping back against Boone, straining for more, demanding more in a guttural snarl.

"Fuck me! Yeah! That's it. More!" Sawyer dropped his head forward and bit deeply into the arm wound around his chest.

He knows everything that's important is said in Sawyer's touch and kiss. There's nothing words can tell Boone that he doesn't already know.

Boone decides, caught up in the rush of bliss that Sawyer can keep his secrets.

So... they say it's your birthday...

2006-03-27T16:50:41Z

Happy Birthday!!!♥♥emiliglia

Lost Fic: Sawyer/Boone

2006-03-24T00:16:52Z

Title: Secrets
Fandom: LOST
Characters: James 'Sawyer' Ford/Boone Carlisle
Prompt: 078. Discovery
Word Count: 423
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: For slash_100 my Damn Table is here:
Sawyer/Boone Love Table

"Can I help you with something Princess?" Sawyer leaned against a tree and watched Shannon jump clean outta her skin at the sound of his voice. "You must be mistaking my stash for the local Piggly Wiggly."

"You have something I want." Shannon kept rummaging through the open suitcase, finally coming up with a slender pink and purple box.

Sawyer's hand shot out and snatched it. "Well looky here! You got something to tell Unca Saywer or you just shopping early for Sayid's Christmas stocking?"

"I hate you." Shannon folded her arms across her chest. "What do you want?"

"I dunno. Last of its kind. That makes it all kinds of valuable." Sawyer shook the box. "I'm guessing big daddy don't know."

Shannon hissed like a rattler's warning. "Shut up! Just shut your mouth! If you say anything so help me Sawyer you'll regret it."

"Yeah? What're you gonna do to me? Pout me to death? I'm shakin' in my tennis shoes." Sawyer had every intention of giving Shannon the pregnancy test. But that didn't mean he couldn't ruffle her feathers a little bit.

Shannon's words were sharp and laced with shards of glass. "Boone."

"Boone what? You think running to big brother's going to make me give you what you want? Sorry. I ain't that whipped."

"No. You want to keep Boone? Then you'll give me anything that I want." Shannon walked up to Sawyer, standing with her hands on her hips just inches away from him. "The only reason you have him is because I don't want him. At least not the way he wants me to. You're the guy he's fucking but I'm the one he's been in love with since he was ten." A sly look crossed her face. "It wouldn't take much of anything to get him back on my side; a couple of private conversations, maybe a little crying on his shoulder. You may not know this, but Boone's pathetically easy."

Sawyer grabbed Shannon's arms. "He's not the pathetic one. What kind of sick piece of work are you? Making up lies like that…"

"You think it's a lie? Go ahead. Ask Boone what happened in Melbourne the night before we left." She jerked out of his grip. "You may think you have him but he's just on loan. She hit Sawyer in his bad shoulder, grabbed the box and stalked back to the beach.

She left Sawyer with a stabbing pain in his arm, an ache in his head and a sick feeling in his gut.

So very cool... gakked

2006-03-20T22:20:10Z

Hee

gakked from viola69

Watching Daily Show... le swoon

2006-02-23T04:27:07Z

Matthew Fox is so amazingly CUTE! Why didn't I know how adorable his giggles are?

*keeps him and snuggles him and loves him forever*

Lost: James 'Sawyer' Ford/Boone Carlisle

2006-02-09T04:14:05Z

Title: Hairy Situation
Fandom: LOST
Characters: James 'Sawyer' Ford/Boone Carlisle
Prompt: 020. Her
Word Count: 519
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: For slash_100 my Big Damn Table is here:
Sawyer/Boone Love Table

"Do you mind?"

"Nah, not really." Sawyer continued bouncing the tennis ball off the wall. Bored. He was beyond bored. He was in a new place called 'The Boring Part of Hell'. Trapped in the hatch on button duty with Captain Falafel.

Hell.

It wouldn't be so bad if he had Boone to keep him company. But noooo 'couples' weren't assigned hatch time together. Not since the Rose/Bernard incident a couple of weeks ago. So instead he was stuck watching Sayid poke and prod the machinery.

The first few hours were fun because he could use the time to test out some new nicknames for Sayid. Baghdad Bob, Ali Hakim (combined with calling Shannon 'Ado Annie') were the best of the new batch and he filed them away for later use. After that things slowed considerably.

He was really starting to lose his touch if he couldn't provoke Sayid into a fight after four hours trapped in cramped quarters together. Damn stupid raft. Ever since he'd gotten on that floating death trap everyone on the island seemed to have gotten the idea that he was some sort of card carrying hero.

It was starting to give him the creeps.

Too many smiles. Too much sincerity.

"Forget this. I'm leaving. You can stay and play with your doomsday button all you want Ali Hakim but I'm outta here." Sawyer stood up only to have a hand shove him back down.

"No you're not." Boone said. "Hi Sayid."

Sawyer glowered at Boone over his shoulder. "You ruined my dramatic exit."

"That's because I brought you some lunch." Boone dropped his backpack in Sawyer's lap and fished a pair of scissors out of it. "And you're going to get your haircut."

"Wha? Oh no your don't Sweetness!" Sawyer ground out through clenched teeth.

"Sayid, I think Shannon brought you lunch too." Boone gestured towards the living area of the hatch.

Sayid's lips pursed in a funny smile and he quickly stood up and headed for the door. "Yes. *ahem* Thank you. I'm quite famished."

Once Sayid (the coward) was gone, Sawyer spun in his chair. "You know you just gave him permission to go and boink your sister don't you?"

Boone leaned over the chair, bracing himself on the arm rests so that he could kiss Sawyer. "You're not going to distract me. Your hair's way too long and I'm gonna fix it."

Sawyer rubbed his hand over Boone's stomach. "Yeah? I thought you liked having something to hang on to when we're…" Boone cut off the rest of Sawyer's words with a kiss. It was so hot and hard and just plain *pushy* Sawyer gave in. He knew it wouldn't be long before Boone wanted to try the driver's seat and to Sawyer's surprise he wasn't dreading it. In fact, the more he thought about it the hotter it got him.

Boone eventually pulled away. "It's not like I'm going to cut it all off." He pulled a papaya out of the backpack and handed it to Sawyer. "Just enough so that you don't look like Jessica Simpson from behind."

"HEY!"

ficklemuse @ 2006-02-08T20:46:00

2006-02-09T02:47:50Z

Sawyer is the fucking LOVE of my life and I'll kill anyone who looks at him crosseyed.

kthnxbi!

Lost Fic: Sawyer/Boone

2006-01-30T04:44:10Z

Title: Home Sweet Home
Fandom: Lost
Characters: James 'Sawyer' Ford/Boone Carlyle
Prompt: 001. Beginnings
Word Count: 392
Rating: G
Author's Notes: For slash_100.

"What d'ya think Mike?" Sawyer tapped the crumpled piece of paper. "Is it possible?"

"Possible? Yeah. But you're gonna need a lot more wood than this." Michael gestured to the three piles of bamboo. "Especially if you want that fence."

Sawyer crooked a finger at Michael and turned deeper into the jungle. When they reached the clearing he stepped aside so Michael had a better view. "This good enough?"

"Damn Sawyer! You cleared all this yourself?"

"You know me Mike." Sawyer replied with a snort. "I'm just a busy lil' bee."

"You got a place picked out?" Michael looked around the clearing. "You're not putting it up out here are you?"

"Do I look like polar bear bait to you?" Sawyer shook his head. "I was thinking of backing it right up against the outside of the caves. The rock'll keep it cool enough. Especially if we use the wall where the water pool's at."

Michael nodded and took Sawyer's diagram. "I can see it." He gave Sawyer a look. "So what's in it for me?"

"Excuse me?" Sawyer pretended to be shocked. "Why Mikey! I can't believe you'd take advantage of me in my weakened condition."

"It's the only time a person gets the chance to." Michael replied. "Okay, I'll help you build your house if you get me enough to build my own."

"You've got yourself a deal."

**

"A house?" Boone looked at Sawyer's revised sketch. "Here?"

"Naw, not on the beach. I was thinking it wouldn't be such a bad idea to be closer to the caves." He gave a lopsided grin. "At the rate we get hurt having the doc on call twenty four-seven might come in handy."

Boone traced the outline with the tip of his finger. "You drew this?"

"Mikey made some changes to it. He's going to help put it up." He looked at Boone's odd expression. "What do you think?"

A smile crawled over Boone's face. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

Sawyer rolled his eyes. The truth was he never thought there was a chance Boone wouldn't live with him. He'd gotten used to Boone in a way he'd never gotten used to any of his other lovers. He rubbed his hand over the back of Boone's neck, reeling him in. "No. I'm telling you. You're with me."

**

Iowa State Basketball can kiss my black ass!!

2006-01-26T02:06:42Z

I don't get to see Lost until 10:35 cause some overgrown FREAKS can't stop playing their stupid game on time.

This only fuels my theory that college and professional sports only exist to PISS. ME. THE. FUCK. OFF.

Lost (James Sawyer Ford/Boone Carlyle) 029. Taste

2006-01-17T01:23:32Z

Title: Strawberry Ice Cream
Fandom: Lost
Characters: James 'Sawyer' Ford/Boone Carlyle
Prompt: 029. Taste
Word Count: 677
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: For slash_100 My Little Damn Table is HERE:

http://www.livejournal.com/community/demon_inmy_view/2085.html#cutid1

"Where have you been?" Sawyer slammed his book shut and glowered at Boone.

"On the beach." Boone answered mildly. A week of being stuck in the hatch made for a crankier than ever Sawyer. One who needed to be handled just right to keep him from biting somebody's head off. "I brought you something."

Sawyer shoved himself up on one elbow. "Yeah?"

Boone's smile widened. "Have you been a good boy?"

"Fuck no. Now gimme."

Secretly Boone was thrilled Sawyer was back to his usual bad tempered self. "Hmm. I went through a lot to get this." He inched closer to the bunk. "Maybe I should just keep it to myself."

"Fine. I'm going back to sleep." Sawyer's eyes flashed in irritation. He turned his back on Boone muttering 'asshole' under his breath.

"Okay, you rest up. I'll just sit here." Boone played along. After a minute he set the bait. "Seems like a shame to let this melt though."

Boone had to give Sawyer credit, he barely twitched. "I guess I can give it to Locke. I bet he likes strawberry ice cream."

This time Sawyer did more than twitch. He sat up so fast he cracked his head against the top bunk. "Ice cream?"

"Along with the pantry full of food – there's a freezer. I had to trade with Hurley for the key." Boone moved to get up.

"Trade what?" Sawyer's eyes never let the bowl in Boone's hands.

"Watership Down."

"You gave Stay-Puff my bunny book?"

"Your bunny book?" Boone arched his eyebrows. "You might want to rethink that particular personal pronoun." He waved the bowl. "Do you want it or not?"

"Bring it here."

When Sawyer grabbed for the bowl Boone shook his head. "I'll feed you."

"I'm not a baby."

"Your arm hurts. Now shut up." Boone chuckled as he loaded the spoon with soft pin ice cream. "Now open up the hanger…" He got through two plane noises before he cracked up.

Sawyer was less amused. Much less.

Then Boone finally placed the spoon to Sawyer's lips and Sawyer made a noise that up until then Boone had only heard him make during sex. "Good?"

Sawyer's lips eventually released the spoon, his tongue darting out to catch every trace of ice cream. "Hell yeah. Gimme more."

Boone's spine tingled from the head of Sawyer's smoky eyed look and guttural demand for more. Feeding an injured person hadn't really been one of Boone's kinks before, but watching Sawyer Boone had the feeling that was about to change.

Boone scooped out more ice cream and Sawyer met him halfway sucking down every bit with a blissed out expression.

"Damn. Nothing's ever tasted that good."

Taking another spoonful Boone pushed Sawyer back against the pillows. He rubbed the spoon against Sawyer's lower lip before sliding it in. Pulling the spoon away Boone leaned in and licked Sawyer's lips. "You're right. Nothing's ever tasted that good."

"Hey! Mine! No stealing." Sawyer's fingers pulled Boone down, his tongue storming into Boone's mouth and taking back every trace of strawberry. When he pulled back, he grabbed Boone's wrist and licked a single dribble of ice cream away. "Ice cream first. Sex later." He tucked both his hands behind his head. "You gonna feed me or what?"

Boone set the bowl on the ledge over beside the bed and stripped off his shirt. "I suppose it's the least I can do." He replied feeling giddy. "It wouldn't be right to just leave you hanging…"

"Got that right." Sawyer accepted Boone's weight as he straddled Sawyer's hips. "More."

By the time they got down to the pool of melted ice cream at the bottom of the bowl Boone was licking his lips. He was about to set aside the bowl for what he was really craving when Sawyer took it out of his hands.

"I'm not done with that."

Boone's breath caught as Sawyer lifted the bowl with one hand and with the other unbuttoned Boone's jeans. "Sawyer…"

Sawyer gave a wicked little smirk. "Come on. Just a taste."

Lost: Last Chance Pt. 3 (Dr. Jack Shepard/Boone Carlyle)

2006-01-15T20:03:22Z

Title: Fear
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Jack Shepard/Boone Carlyle
Prompt: 003. Truth
Word Count: 832
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: For slash_me_twice

Jack was four glasses of scotch into a previously unopened bottle by the time the body on his couch stirred.

'The body'. He couldn't bring himself to think of him as 'Boone'. Because Boone was dead. Jack watched him die. Jack buried him in a hole on the island. So there had to be some other explanation.

But for the life of him he couldn't figure out what in the hell that explanation might be.

He looked like Boone. Underneath the scruffy beard the features were Boone's. Same eyes. Same mouth. Once Jack had pulled him in from the porch and placed him on the couch he'd shoved up the ragged leg of his pants and inspected his leg. Obviously something had happened to it but it was no where near the mangled wreck Boone had died with.

"Huh?" Boone struggled to sit up. "Jack? What's going on? Where are we?" Boone's eyes darted around the room.

"The first day of the plane crash – what's the first thing I said to you?" Jack congratulated himself for being able to get the question out without stammering.

"What is this? A quiz? I don't remember! I don't remember anything including how I got here!"

"The first day on the beach. You were giving Rose CPR…" Jack prompted. "What did I say?"

Boone slumped back down on the sofa. "You said I was doing it wrong. That I was just blowing air into her stomach."

Jack nodded, unsure whether he was relieved or not. "I don't understand. How?"

"How what? Come on Jack. Tell me what happened! Where are we? Where's everyone else?"

Jack reluctantly inched closer to the couch and sat on the coffee table across from Boone. "What's the last thing you remember? Where were you before here?"

"The plane." Boone said after a minute. "The little Cessna." He looked at Jack. "I sent out a distress call on the radio. Somebody answered." Boone frowned. "Then I was in the caves."

"What else?"

"Nothing!" Panic crept into Boone's voice. "Why can't I remember? What happened to me?"

Instinctively Jack's hand came to rest on Boone's shoulder. The moment froze in time. Looking into Boone's eyes, feeling the warm flesh under his hand made everything real for Jack in a way nothing else had. "You –" Jack's mouth worked to get the words out. "The plane fell off the cliff and…" Of all the things Jack's said, the diagnoses he's pronounced, the words of comfort he's had to say, nothing comes close to what's about to come out of his mouth. "You died. Your leg was in bad shape and there was a lot of internal bleeding." The words, at first slow and halting suddenly burst forth lie water through a broken dam. "I was going to try and take the leg to control some of the bleeding."

"But I wouldn't let you." Boone finished. His lips set in a thin line. "I woke up and told you to let me go."

Hearing the words for a second time made Jack scramble to his feet and being pacing. "This is crazy. I'm crazy. I've finally lost my mind. This isn't happening. You're not here and I'm not having this conversation with you." He stopped in front of the liquor cart and paused for another shot, downing it in a single gulp.

"Can I have one of those?"

Jack spun around and Boone gave a smile that didn't come close to reaching his eyes.

"If I'm going to be a ghost I should at least get to drink."

Jack drew a shaky hand over his face. "You're not a ghost. There's no such thing. You're a hallucination. A delusion. A physical manifestation of my fucked up God complex."

"Excuse me Dr. Freud, but this physical manifestation has to go to the bathroom." Boone suddenly gave Jack a genuine smile.

"What? Why are you smiling?"

"Nothing. It's just typical Jack. You over think everything." Boone got to his feet. "Coming up with every explanation except for one." Boone gestured. "Maybe, bear with me I know this is radical idea, just maybe you made a mistake. I wasn't really dead. I've read about that happening to people before. They made a movie about it – that guy in Jamaica…"

"Boone you died. We buried you."

"Right. Because you can't ever be wrong." Boone rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm a hallucination. Whatever. Just point me to a phone, I'll call Shannon and I'll be out of here."

Lost Fic: 028. Touch (Sawyer/Boone)

2006-01-12T07:52:14Z

Title: Touch
Author: ficklemuse
Fandom: Lost
Characters: James Sawyer Ford/Boone Carlyle
Prompt: 028. Touch
Word Count: 527
Rating: G
Author's Notes: For slash_100

Boone prides himself on not blushing when he tells Jack that he'll stay in the hatch and give Sawyer his sponge bath. Someone has to stay while everyone else attends Jin's funeral. Boone knows he should go. But he can't quite face Sun. Not yet. Not when he's so fucking relieved to have Sawyer back. Even if it makes him a horrible person he can't help but be grateful for what he has and it feels as if that makes him grateful for what Sun's lost.

Just thinking about it makes Boone's chest hurt.

So he doesn't dwell on it.

Instead he focuses on getting out a tub of warm soapy water and a washcloth. Pulling back the bed sheets Boone takes in every inch of Sawyer's skin. He catalogs every cut, every bruise that mars his tanned skin. Wringing out some of the water, Boone starts to stroke the washcloth over Sawyer's neck and down his chest.

Sawyer stirs a little in the bunk bed, but not much as Boone continues to wash him slowly and methodically. When the water cools causing little goosebumps to form on Sawyer's arms, Boone sets aside the tub and tenderly dries Sawyer. He applies a thin layer of lotion and pulls on a clean t-shirt and sweatpants before tucking the sheets around Sawyer's still unconscious body.

After a minute though sitting in the chair beside the bed isn't enough. Sliding across the gap, Boone balances on the edge of the bed watching the heavy, labored up and down movement of Sawyer's chest. Reaching out, Boone lays his hand on Sawyer's chest until it's not enough. He needs more. His hand slides up under Sawyer's t-shirt and instantly he feels better. Skin to skin. Boone lets out a contented sigh.

Casting a glance at the closed door, Boone makes his decision. He quickly strips out of his clothes and pulls Sawyer's clothes off as well, leaving them on the ledge by the fake window. Sliding between the sheets with Sawyer Boone is careful not to jostle Sawyer's arm in any way. He feels greedy but he can't bring himself to care.

His hands run up and down Sawyer's arms, his chest and stomach petting him back to sleep whenever he stirs. Tucked away from the world in the narrow bunk bed, Boone lets loose the tears he's been holding back since the raft left.

Not all of the tears are his. Some are for Jin who'd dove in front of a bullet and saved Shannon's life. Some are Sun's loss. The rest are for Sawyer. For getting on the raft in the first place. For getting on the raft for Boone. For getting shot. For ignoring his own advice about being a hero. Boone buries his face in the curve of Sawyer's neck and continues to touch him. Every touch pulling Sawyer closer until they're so tangled together there's no telling where one ends and the other begins.

Later, when Rose comes in to find the two of them tangled together she's a little embarassed and amused. But seeing the peaceful looks on both boys faces, Rose mostly feels touched. She pulls a second blanket up to cover them before turning out the lights.

Lost Fic: Sawyer/Boone Series Interlude (Michael/Sun)

2006-01-11T20:20:56Z

Title: Mourning
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Michael and Sun
Word Count: 472
Rating: G
Author's Notes: This is an interlude to my Sawyer/Boone series.

When Michael bursts into the garden, he finds Sun kneeling in the mud between rows of seedlings battered by the storm. He tried to speak, got as far as opening his mouth and forming Jin's name when Sun broke into tears.

Her too thin frame collapsed in on itself and her sobs ripped through Michael stomach like a knife. Sun's grief on top of his own was almost enough to send Michael to his knees. "I'm sorry." He finally found his voice even if the words weren't enough, would never be enough. He knelt beside Sun in the mud and carefully hugged her. "It was an accident. I'm so sorry."

Neither of them moved for so long that Michael's knees and back scream in protest when he stood up, pulling Sun with him.

"Where…?"

"The caves. They're bringing him to the caves."

Sun allowed herself to be brought along. Talking mostly to herself. "I never wanted him to go. I tried to stop him. I tried…"

Michael nodded. It wasn't a stretch to figure out who was behind the thing with the water bottles. Right after he'd figured it out a small part of him hoped Sun had been trying to protect him. The weight of that guilt is heavy on Michael's chest and forces his next words out. "He – he just wanted to get back to you. He really tried to get back to you."

Sun nodded and Michael could see her steeling herself. The tears were gone and her shoulders squared not bowed. "Is Walt alright?"

Michael's stomach clenched and he tried to say the words as quickly as possible, hoping maybe they'd hurt less if they didn't linger in his mouth. "Walt's gone. They took him off the raft. They took him." He was wrong. The words are still like broken glass and he can feel himself bleeding.

Sun stops on the path, grabbing Michael's arm.

He turned slowly but when Sun reached out to him, Michael jerked out of reach. "Don't. Please." He knew if he let himself be comforted, be held, then it would all be too real. He couldn't let it be real. Couldn't let it sink in that his son was gone forever. As long as it wasn't real in his heart then he could keep walking, keep talking and most importantly he could keep looking for Walt. "I can't…" He turned sharply off the path. "You should go." He said finally. "You need to go. I've got to go back to the beach and get Vincent. We still have some time before it gets really dark. I need to keep looking."

Leaving Sun alone on the path was one of the hardest things Michael ever did in a lifetime of hard decisions, but he had to keep moving.

Walt couldn't bring himself home.

Lost: Last Chance Pt. 2 (Dr. Jack Shepard/Boone Carlyle)

2006-01-11T19:35:25Z

Title: Little Earthquakes
Author: ficklemuse
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Dr. Jack Shepard/Boone Carlyle
Prompt: 033. Present
Word Count: 499
Rating: G
Author's Notes: For slash_me_twice
Disclaimer: I don't own 'Lost' or any of their lovely characters. All hail ABC etc.

Coming down the stairs of the farmhouse Jack's greeted by a friendly face and a wag of the tail.

"Morning Hershey." Pausing at the bottom of the step Jack gives the puppy deep scratches behind her ears and a belly rub.

Normally he wasn't much of a cat or a dog person. But Hershey had been a gift from a grateful patient and Jack couldn't say no. In the past few months he'd grown fond of the chocolate lab's company.

The life of a 'country' doctor still seemed completely foreign, but Jack was slowly learning to adapt. It came about on the spur of the moment. One minute he'd been sitting in the office of the Chief of Staff trying to angle to get his old position at the hospital back and the next minute he was tendering his official resignation and walking out of the hospital without a plan or a place to go for the first time in his life.

He'd found the house and the practice through an old medical school friend and bought it sight unseen. All he knew was Schaffer California was as far from Los Angeles in state of mind as he could get. The office in the converted granary was open four days a week. Mon-Thursday with an emergency visit every now and then whenever some dumb high school kid managed to get tangled up in some barbed wire.

He wandered into the kitchen and grabbed the carton of orange juice out of the fridge. Leaning against the counter, Jack surveyed the open kitchen/dining room/living room with satisfaction. The remodel of the farmhouse hadn't exactly been one of his priorities when he'd bought the place but his mother had been so horrified by its condition Jack used it to his advantage. In exchange for free reign in remodeling the place, Jack's mother agreed to let Jack live relatively in peace. He still visited her once a week for unbearably awkward dinners but she'd stopped lamenting that he was throwing away his future. As far as he was concerned it was a win/win situation.

After breakfast Jack pulled on his boots and started for the barn. He wanted to let the horses out and get to work mucking out the stalls before the temperature started to climb.

He pulled open the front door and came to a complete halt. Blinked. Rubbed his hands over his face and blinked again.

"Jack?"

The voice was raspy, from lack of use and the eyes behind weeks worth of beard were bleary, red rimmed. The excruciatingly thin body in front him looked as if it could barely stand much less have climbed the front porch steps.

Jack wanted to slam the door and possibly curl up in the fetal position. But instead he found himself drawing nearer. His fingers reached out reluctantly to confirm what he was seeing. Just as Jack's fingers would have reached the other's face, he collapsed in a heap on Jack's porch.

"Boone?

Lost (James Sawyer Ford/Boone Carlyle) 083. Home

2006-01-08T06:19:24Z

Title: Collision
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Sawyer Ford/Boone Carlyle
Prompt: 083. Home
Word Count: 1,630
Rating: R
Author's Notes: For slash_100

Reading Order:

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
Interlude

"Just leave me alone! Get away from me!" Shannon stalked past Boone without so much as pausing. "If you won't believe me then you can go to hell!"

Boone watched as Sayid stopped following and stood with his hands on his hips looking equal parts frustrated and annoyed. "Should I even ask?"

"Your sister is…" Sayid began.

"Yeah. She is." Boone didn't need to hear the rest of the sentence to know it would probably finished with: difficult, stubborn, opinionated, rude, temperamental or high strung. None of which Boone could argue with even on Shannon's best day. "What set her off this time?" He was surprised to see a hint of blush on Sayid's cheeks.

"She had a disturbing nightmare. She believes she saw Walt in her tent. I have tried to reassure her that it was only a dream. But the more I say the more upset with me she becomes."

Boone leaned over as far as his crutches would allow and picked up his fallen water bottle. "Shan's like that."

Sayid reached for Boone's bag and slung it over his own shoulder. "Are you going to the caves?"

"Yep." The two walked in silence for a moment. "You've gotta know this about Shannon. There's nothing in between with her. She's not somebody that likes grey areas. Right or wrong. Good or bad. Yes or no." Boone gave a small chuckle. "When we were kids the surest way to drive Shannon crazy was to say 'maybe' when she asked for something. It never failed. She would have rather heard 'NO' a million times than a single 'maybe'. Anyway, it's the same thing with people. There are two kinds of people in Shannon's world. The ones that believe in her and the ones that don't."

"I believe in Shannon. But there is no possible way she could have seen Walt. I was in her tent less than ten seconds after she screamed and I saw nothing." Sayid pushed his hands through his hair. "It's not possible."

"I wouldn't say that."

"What do you mean? You think Walt appeared in Shannon's tent?"

Boone paused for a minute. "Not really. But I've seen some pretty impossible stuff on this island. Haven't you?" He felt a strong twinge in his leg, but paid it no attention. It was getting stronger every day and while his days of running in marathons were long gone, Boone was grateful to still *have* his leg. Once he and Sayid reached the water pool at the caves, Boone sat at the edge. "I'm just saying that impossible stuff isn't quite so impossible here. Maybe she saw Walt, maybe she didn't. It doesn't matter. What matters is that you believe her."

It felt strange giving Sayid advice about anything much less Shannon but if there was one subject Boone considered himself an expert on it was his sister. Unlike every other guy who'd ever gone out with her, Sayid seemed to genuinely care about Shannon and want to protect her. He trusted Sayid to look out for Shannon which meant she wasn't his responsibility anymore. It was a much nicer sense of relief to Boone than when he'd been drugged into thinking Shannon was dead.

"I should go and speak to her." Sayid cast Boone a thoughtful look. "Do you think she will listen to me?"

"Some flowers probably wouldn't hurt." Boone rolled his eyes. "And try leading with 'I was a jerk. I'm sorry.'"

After Sayid left to look for Shannon, Boone filled his water bottles and was getting up to leave when Sun arrived.

"Do you think…" She began hesitantly. "I heard about Shannon…"

"I don't know. I don't know what she saw." Boone watched as Sun deflated. "But I was thinking maybe we should all start walking along the beaches and see if anything else washed up on shore." It was a spur of the moment thought, but it seemed to make Sun feel better and she hurried off to get volunteers.

Boone didn't like to think about what could have happened to the raft. During the day he could push thoughts of it out of his mind. There was always something to be done. Hatches to explore. Buttons to push. Crazy French women kidnapping Claire's baby. Always something.

"Boone…" Jack walked over from the infirmary area. "Sun told me about walking the beaches."

"I'll be careful with my leg."

"That's not what I'm worried about." Jack replied. "I don't think you should get your hopes up. I know you don't want to hear that. But I'm saying it because I'm worried. About you and about Sun." Jack placed his hand on Boone's shoulder.

"Don't." Boone shook it off. "I know what you're thinking. But don't."

"Boone I'm just saying, there's a chance that Sawyer didn't…"

"Don't say it and don't give me that bedside manner shit Jack. I'm not stupid. I know Sawyer could be dead. But I also know that when I went over that cliff I should have been dead too. But I'm not. So until I see something that proves otherwise, I'm not giving up."

They searched along the beaches until the rain started. It wasn't the usual island rain of ten or fifteen minutes then sunshine either. This rain was hard and cold and something foreign. Boone decided to head to the hatch for a shower and to toss his shirt in the dryer.

Once he reached the hatch, Boone wasn't surprised to find Locke already there working on another crossword puzzle.

"Hello Boone."

"Hey. I just thought I'd come in from the rain for a little bit." Boone dropped his pack and leaned his crutches against the wall.

"Did you find anything on the beaches?"

Boone didn't bother to ask how John knew they were searching the beaches. There were a lot of things John knew that Boone couldn't explain. So he simply stopped trying. "No. No sign of the raft or any –" He couldn't bring himself to say 'bodies'. "Nothing."

"I'd say that's a good sign wouldn't you?" Locke remarked. "If something happened to the raft there would be more evidence."

"So you don't think I'm crazy for hoping?" To Boone's ears the words sounded small like a child needing reassurance. He wasn't weak and he DID believe Sawyer was alright – but there was a part of him that needed to hear it from someone else.

"I don't think hope is ever crazy Boone. And if anyone can beat the odds it's most likely Sawyer." Locke gestured towards the showers. "Go ahead. I'll put some coffee on."

Boone was about to move when Jack and Kate rushed in carrying a familiar limp form between the two of them followed by a large black guy Boone didn't recognize. "Sawyer? Jack! What happened?"

"He's been shot." Jack didn't slow down. "He's infected and burning up. We need to get him in the shower. Kate, Boone and I can take it from here, you go back to the caves and get my bag."

Boone moved as fast as he could to the shower room, ignoring the pain in his leg. He flung open the door and turned the shower on full blast. He was already out of his shoes by the time Jack got Sawyer into the bathroom. Boone sucked in a quick breath and stepped under the icy spray. He reached out for Sawyer. "Give him to me."

Jack complied, already working at the buttons on Sawyer's shirt. "Jesus." He spit out. He reached for a washcloth and began to vigorously clean the wound.

Boone cradled Sawyer's limp body in his arms and felt the kind of panic he'd felt the day the plane crashed. "Sawyer? Sawyer? Come on. Wake up. Wake up it's okay." He combed his fingers through Sawyer's tangled hair while his free hand worked at the rest of Sawyer's clothes.

Sawyer was completely naked when John came into the bathroom carrying a heavy wide piece of metal. "Here. Put this in the doorway of the shower. We can keep it fairly well filled with cold water." Locke jammed the piece of metal into the open doorway and stuffed a towel around the drain creating an improvised bathtub.

"Thanks." Jack kept prodding at the wound in Sawyer's shoulder and more and more pus came out. "Fuck. Locke, see what kind of antibiotics are in this place. Antibiotics and pain killers. Anything you can find." He shook his head. "I have to say Boone, you and Sawyer sure know how to keep things interesting."

"Somebody's gotta keep you honest Doc." Sawyer mumbled under his breath. "What else have you got to do all day? Play golf?"

Boone pressed his lips to Sawyer's forehead. He could feel the skin beneath his lips burning up. "I've never been so happy to hear your voice." He murmured into Sawyer's ear as Jack continued to rinse Sawyer with the icy water. Boone couldn't feel his fingers and his nose was running and his heart was beating a million miles a minute but none of it registered. "I knew you were too stubborn to die."

"Told'ja I'd fuck you in a real bed if it killed me."

"Dumbass." Boone crooned tenderly. "Dumb. Dumb. Dumbass. Leave it to you to get shot on a raft."

Sawyer coughed. "Yeah? Least I didn't fall out of a plane just a coupla weeks after I fell outta a plane." He slumped completely in Boone's arms.

"Jack?!"

"It's alright. He just passed out."

Boone held on to Sawyer. As if he could transfer his own strength to Sawyer through touch. He kept stroking Sawyer's hair and face. "It's alright. You're going to be fine." And for the first time since the raft took off, Boone actually believed it.

Lost (James Sawyer Ford/Boone Carlyle) 066. Anger

2006-01-07T20:52:39Z

Title: The Lost Boys Meet Rambina and the Scowl of Doom
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Sawyer Ford/Boone Carlyle
Prompt: 066. Anger
Word Count: 226
Rating: R (Sawyer has a MOUTH on him...)
Author's Notes: For slash_100

"I say jump, what do you say?"

Sawyer looked up at Rambina and made a decision. He'd been pissed at getting shot. Annoyed at being thrown into a fucking hole in the ground. But having some crazy bitch grind her foot into his shoulder? There just wasn't enough 'Hell no' in the world. Sawyer swung his foot up and kicked Rambina in the face as hard as he could. "I say touch me again you bitch and I'll fucking kill you." He watched as she fell back clutching her nose. "How's that work for ya'?"

Ana-Lucia sprung up and charged at Sawyer again only to have Michael and Jin get in her way. "I think you broke my nose you woman hating asshole!"

"Yeah? Then don't kick a man when he's down." Sawyer pulled himself to his feet. "For your information darlin'? I don't hate women. I just hate the holy hell outta YOU."

She started for him once again only to have Shaft grab her around the waist and haul her back.

"Ana! That's enough. We have to move."

"Fine! But if you slow us up Cowboy, I've got no problem leaving you behind." Ana-Lucia tried to sound menacing, but with the broken nose she just sounded gurgly and annoyed.

Ficklemuse

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