Lost belongs to JJ Abrams and crew. Just borrowing for fun. Sawyer enjoys the contents of Claire's baggage. Pre-Homecoming. Done on a challenge from a friend, inspired by the TV Guide interview with Josh Holloway.
Lost – Panties
By Mystic
April 6th 2005
Sawyer watched Kate pass the bag for the third time in as many hours. He could detect the slight rise in her left eyebrow knowing it wasn't where it was the last time she'd come through. He'd been kicking it closer to his tent all afternoon. Just a shift of a foot or two and he was careful not to be anywhere near when Kate emerged. He knew what the woman was thinking; he also knew he shouldn't bother. Claire was a pregnant woman, what the hell would she have of any value to him.
So he stole the bag anyway.
Tossed it against the sandy bottom of his little home and undid the flaps of the tent to seal him from the rest of the camp. He was already separated, but at least he wouldn't feel as guilty when he pulled back the zippers and thrust his hands inside. He found a comb, which he placed neatly on his cot, and then he found a bottle of Ibuprofen. 500 milligrams. He smiled, standard was 200 and his head was pounding.
Then his hands found soft cotton and his mouth spread into a grin. Panties. And not pregnant women panties either, but dainty floral patterned panties, a few with thongs and some sporty striped ones. Sawyer leaned back against the airline seats that made his bed and pulled a handful into his lap. He almost laughed; he hadn't gone through a woman's panties since he was a teenager. He and a friend had broken into a house. They'd dug through all the drawers and found the hidden cash.
Then they found lingerie.
Silky red teddies and black lace bras. Sawyer had been the first to raise a pair to his curious groin. He'd smiled, made a face and then laughed as his friend slapped a table to contain his tears. It wasn't long before the duo was prancing around the empty house in nothing but Victoria's Secrets finest pink ensembles.
Now he brought the foreign objects to his nose and took a long whiff. They smelled of salt and baby powder. Sawyer dropped them back into his lap and half grinned. Then he picked up a low cut pair with yellow stripes and glanced around. He held them to his hips and then snapped them back up into a ball, huffing in annoyance. Sawyer wasn't sure if he was upset at himself because he wanted to put them on, or because he knew they wouldn't fit.
Kicking off his shoes, he unzipped his pants and stripped down to nothing. He smiled; the only person who would dare pop their head into his tent would be one freckle faced gal. Sawyer pulled a pink pair on and grunted when they stuck around his thighs. The white thong went straight up and he grimaced, digging the string out of his back end and tossing the pair back into the bag. He never understood thongs anyways.
A thin black pair made from elastic material rode up smooth, but his balls slipped out, followed quickly by his penis and he threw his hands in the air with a shout of frustration. He tried on every single pair, growing more and more annoyed with each as they either didn't find their way up or they dug into his privates.
Sawyer threw the last pair into the bag and groaned. He let his hands fall onto the suitcase and felt something hard against his fingertips. He pulled the diary out of the side pocket. Kicking the suitcase off his bed, he threw himself into it with a huff of breath and flipped through the pages.
Finis