Title: Hot Child
Author: Lazuli
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Lost is owned by that glorious bastard, J.J. Abrams. Love you, sugarplum.
Summary: A mercilessly hot day on the island inspires Shannon Rutherford to "take a day off". Swims, laziness, and hanging around the men of the island seem like a perfect way to pass the time. More importantly, she wants to know why Sayid has been avoiding her…
(blows whistle, and breaks bottle of champagne on S.S. Shayid) Congratulations, folks. Our ship has officially set sail. Here's hoping those two crazy kids work it out.
Chapter 7
"…In an Awkward Situation"
"…I'm like, not even worried about mascara, so we can leave it behind….Actually, on second thought, I'll take it just in case. Also, bring that smoky eyeshadow and the glitter. No, glitter's for fifteen year olds. Grab the red lipstick, it'll look so awesome with the black. UGH!" Shannon threw her makeup onto the blanket, frustrated, "I give up."
Claire raised her eyebrow, but patiently collected everything that Shannon had thrown onto the blanket, and put it back into the small mesh carryon case that they'd selected to hold their belongings for that night. Being no stranger to her fits every half hour about her wardrobe, Shannon realized that Claire would rather stick the stormy weather out, than let the girl clomp around the beach and yell at everyone in sight.
Shannon, on the other hand, couldn't keep her emotions in check. While she appreciated the down-to-earth persona that Claire gave off, her thoughts spiraled off and she couldn't concentrate on what her friend was saying. Makeup tips swirled and mixed with thoughts of flirting techniques from old magazines, and sideswiped thoughts of dark eyes searing into hers, blended with the thrill of the brush of his hand and the outline of his muscles against that damn white tank that he loved so much, especially when it was wet…
"GAH!" She shrieked, and buried her head under her towel, "Why can't I just STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM?"
Her outburst surprised Claire, who accidentally dropped the mesh bag on the ground.
"Er," she said, cautiously, putting a hand on Shannon's back, "Are you alright?" Shannon didn't move.
"He's so not my type, Claire," she wailed, her voice muffled in the towel, "I'm so used to dating Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein, and now I'm with…." She picked her head up, and looked at Claire frantically, "I don't even know!" Claire was amused.
"You really did just compare the men you've dated with fashion brands, didn't you?" she laughed, her eyes dancing. Shannon glared at her, then looked down at the ground, an expression of dejection coming over her face.
"He's just different," she said softly, and let her fingers intertwine with the strings of the black bikini, trying not to think about how it suddenly reminded her of how much she'd like to bury her fingers into his dark hair. She pulled and tugged the strings, spilling her outfit from the bag, and attempted to push the image of her dragging his head towards hers, arching his neck back as she leaned down and felt her hot breath combine with his-
"SHANNON!" Claire bellowed, "What the BLOODY hell are you doing!" Shannon looked up and saw Claire staring at her with a shocked expression on her face. She looked down and realized that she was five seconds away from planting a kiss on her black bikini.
Embarrassment flooded her face, and she timidly smiled at Claire, who still looked wary.
"Come on," she said, finally, and helped Claire to her feet, "We have to get back to the caves and start primping," Shannon turned and looked at the setting sun.
Soon.
At the caves.
Sawyer and Charlie looked up as Shannon and Claire emerged from the trees. Shannon was silent, clutching a mesh bag to her chest, and Claire was sending her strange glances.
"Don't you ladies know," Sawyer put down the flight manual he was perusing, "That it's bad luck to see the grooms before the wedding?" Shannon didn't even look at him, just walked right past into the recesses of her favorite cave. Baffled, Sawyer turned to her companion, who sighed.
"She's nervous," Claire explained helpfully, "I think she's worked herself up so much for tonight, that she's starting to freak." Charlie stood up and joined them.
"Do you think I should go talk to her?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck, a worried look crossing his features, "I feel kind of bad, it's kind of our fault that she's stuck in this mess…" Sawyer rounded on him.
"Our fault? OUR fault?" He jabbed a finger in the direction Shannon had walked, "Sticks is the one who decided to make the nice-nice with Sayid, and if she can't handle the fact that she's gotta live up to it, then that's her problem." Claire turned her attention to him.
"Why are you so invested in this?" she asked, suspicious. Over her shoulder, Charlie's eyes grew wide, recalling their last conversation. Sawyer glanced at him warningly, then looked back at Claire, turning on the patented "good old boy" charm.
"Just doing my part to keep things running smooth 'round here," he slipped into the smooth, Southern drawl that infuriated everyone so much. Claire wasn't fooled, but decided to let it go. Fighting with Sawyer got you nowhere, and left you even more perplexed and pissed off than when you started. Charlie bit his lip and turned to her, letting that adorable little-boy smile wash over him.
"So…." He looked down at Claire's full stomach, then back up at her, "You and Shan getting ready?" She smiled back at him; his excited attitude was contagious. She rubbed her belly in a circular motion, not sure if she was trying to calm the baby's nerves, or hers.
"We've picked out a couple things," she responded, "but I should really go and help Shannon for tonight." Sawyer butted in.
"Remember, darlin', easy and uncomplicated," she rolled her eyes, "What? Hey, if I'm going to show up to Hurley's shindig with the Princess, she better damn well look like one," he let his eyes become unfocused, deliriously happy with evil thoughts, "I don't know whose expression I want to see more, Sayid's, Jack's, or Kate's." Claire was about to smack him, when Charlie gasped. They turned to look at him.
"You might not get a chance, mate," he said, and pointed at Shannon's cave.
The cave which Sayid had just entered.
At the beach.
"Just put them up against the trees!" Hurley yelled, exasperated, "Not…not there. There! Dude, unless you want to get somebody flattened in the middle of dinner, you'd better move that somewhere else." Mark, a fellow survivor whom Hurley had taken on as his own personal assistant for tonight's festivities, grunted angrily and heaved the piece of metal fuselage that was doing double duty as a wall against the sand.
"It was fine where it was!" He shouted back, wiping the sweat away from his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. Hurley just stared at him.
"Bro, if you mess this one up, and someone dies," he tried out his best 'Sayid' glare, "I'm feeding you to Locke." Mark gulped, and hastily moved the metal piece to where Hurley had earlier indicated. He then trotted back to an amazed Hurley, who vowed to store that look in the back of his mind for later use.
"Rose and some of the women are back from collecting flowers," he said, "They're almost done with the decorations, but that kid's dog keeps eating the big white ones." Hurley panicked, and hustled off in search of Walt, leaving the other confused man behind.
He found Walt sitting on the beach, staring absentmindedly into the sunset. Vincent was curled up next to him, happily chewing away on one of Shannon's preferred flowers. Hurley stopped to catch his breath, and then rubbed Walt affectionately on the top of his head.
"Hey, little dude," he said, "You gotta tell your dog to stop eating all the hibiscus flowers, or Shannon will go nuts. We need those for tonight." Walt didn't say anything, just nodded and looked back out onto the beach. Hurley felt awkward.
"So I'm going to see you there, right?" he asked the young boy. Walt made a noncommittal sound, but didn't respond. Hurley pressed further.
"Because, if you were gonna show up, I was thinking," he pretended to muse for a second, "Well, every luau needs a head chief." The boy's head snapped up, and turned to look at Hurley. The older man smiled.
"What do you say?" Walt looked excited, and nodded his head in approval. Hurley lugged him to his feet.
"Excellent!" he crowed, "Go find Rose and tell her what I said. She'll figure something out." Walt scampered off, overjoyed at his newfound responsibility, with the loyal Vincent in hot pursuit. Hurley felt pleased with himself, then turned and started walking towards the grove. On his way, he passed Jack and Kate, who warmly said hello.
"He's been everywhere today," Kate commented, hefting her backpack onto the other shoulder, "Everytime I see him, he's chasing down somebody with branches, or yelling at people to get more firewood for the fire…" Jack laughed.
"We need more people like him here," he said, ducking his head to avoid a low palm frond, "It keeps morale up, gives everyone something to do and something to focus on. I like the ideas he brings." He sighed, suddenly looking dejected. Kate was concerned.
"What's wrong," she asked gently. Jack just shrugged, not meeting her eyes.
"I don't know, I guess…I guess in a way, I'm kind of jealous," he confessed, "Hurley's got this great attitude towards life, and here I am, brooding, always worrying about every little thing, staying awake at night to make sure someone's feeling alright, or whether or not their cough has a trace of fluid in it, or how I should ration out the rest of the painkillers…" he caught himself, "See? I'm doing it right now. I feel like the parent. The dad that everyone likes, but there's that line that no one wants to cross."
Kate closed her eyes, and allowed her mouth to curve into a small smile, "But Jack, don't you see? Having people rely on you isn't a bad thing. You give them hope."
"Sometimes I think hope isn't enough," he responded, "I keep wanting to give them something more, something more tangible, but it's just so damn hard…" he looked again at the direction Hurley had taken, "That's why I admire him so much. Because he keeps me hopeful. I admire everyone on this island because there's something in all of us that shoots out to me." Kate opened her eyes, and gave him a skeptical, albeit playful, peek.
"Even Sawyer?" she teased. Jack laughed out loud.
"Even…with all his backstabbing Southern prickness," he answered, "There are some bits of Sawyer that I admire." He gave her a face, "Just never tell him I said that." Kate put a finger to her mouth.
"My lips are sealed," she announced solemnly. He nodded, and the two of them continued walking.
"Though," Jack said, "My opinion of Sawyer has been slowly dropping downwards, especially with this whole Sayid and Shannon business." Kate stopped, confused.
"What Sayid and Shannon business?" her voice raised slightly.
"You didn't hear?" Jack looked surprised, "Sawyer's taking Shannon to Hurley's luau tonight. Kind of like a date, or something?" At this statement, Kate couldn't keep it in check.
"Sawyer and SHANNON?" she exclaimed, "Jack, you've got to be kidding me, that's impossible." Jack shook his head.
"Got it straight from Sayid, who is pissed as all hell," he responded, and looked at her, curious, "Did you know that he has a crush on Shannon?" Kate rolled her eyes. Moron.
"Jack, everyone knows Sayid has a crush on Shannon." Jack looked taken aback.
"I didn't!" he cried out, "Why doesn't anyone fill me in on this stuff?" Kate giggled, and increased her pace. Jack was miffed.
"Well, he told me he's not going tonight, and I think one of us should talk to him." Kate shook her head.
"Let him deal with this by himself," she countered, "trust me, this is something you definitely can't help out." Jack shook his head, and swore under his breath.
"The world's against me," he muttered, and followed after the laughing brunette.
End Chapter Seven
Author's Notes: (stumbles drunkenly around room) Yesh! They…oh man…DUDE! I love you. No, I LOVE YOU. So great. Sooooooo great. With the kissing and the (sniff) aw, man. L'amour. We're shipping a real couple, and it's fabulous!
Don't mind me, I've been drunk since 9 last night. What with the kissing and the stares and the Sark.
Also, John Locke: Island Matchmaker. Who knew?
I know you all squealed. Don't lie to me. Short chapter, but I had to get it out somehow, because I'm SO FREAKING EXCITED to finish this story. I'd say there's about three or four more chapters left, so enjoy now, folks. Thanks again for all those great reviews, and keep them coming!
