Decided to continue this one. Because Miles is a fantastic character and deserve bit of love and attention. This chapter is from Mile's POV. Sorry if it is a bit predictable….
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" So have you like asked her out yet?"
Hugo hovers around his table as he is trying to eat his lunch in peace. Man, what's a guy gotta do around here? Having a giddy Heffalump circling around the table certainly doesn't help. He knows this is a cruel thing to think, but come on! He finds instantaneous sympathy for Rabbit and his constant pissyness with Pooh, Lumpy and the Roo-crew.
" What are you on about buddy-boy?" he spits. Eyes surly on the food. It's bad enough as it is, no need to open up to the Dharma Gazette.
" Move along H. Trying to eat here!" he snaps tetchily when Hugo doesn't make a sign to have understood.
Hugo chuckles so that his tummy shakes the tray in his hands and lumbers off saying cheerfully: " You pissed her off real bad last night you know!" Smart move Miles!"
Miles gives his food the once over, and holds up a desiccated chicken-leg gingerly between the tip of his index finger and thumb. Studying it closer, nose bunched up and lips pinched in disgust.
" If I were you I'd pay more attention to my cooking. How did you manage to mummify the chicken? It's bone-dry dude! Is this sauce or embalming liquid? " he retorts but Hugo laughs like a lunatic Santa, paying no heed to the insult.
" I'm just telling you like it is. Gotta' step up your game, bro'!"
Miles resist the urge to flip him the bird and continues to dissect the dried out geriatric carcass Hugo is trying to pass off as food.
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Kate is one fucked-up girl.
Man, that lady's got some issues. He won't even go there.
He admits that obviously he is a bit of a freak himself. But at least he hasn't killed anyone. Besides, she has been through almost all of the guys of the camp by now.
Well,..two at least. And he isn't very keen to go where Jimmy-boy has been.
He's had his share of chicks. You wouldn't believe it, but in some crowds, freaky sells. Nah, he isn't afraid of the comparison, but man, who knows where that guy has been? Jack; drug addict yeah, and well, everyone knows how that story goes. Nah, at first that option didn't look very attractive at all.
It hasn't been easy since he arrived here. Clearly, choices are limited. Look, whom the heck can he date? It'd be gross, to say the least, to screw any of the chicks here. There are some lookers alright but come on; they are all at least 30 years older. He imagines meeting them one day. Back in the real world, varicose veins and sagging jowls.
And his mom is here. I mean, how creepy would it be to sleep around with her friends?
Creepy.
Up till recently, that line of thinking has only left Juliet as a potential candidate, and frankly she scares him. He doesn't understand how Lafleure does it. She is a babe alright, all that golden hair and he had thought her intelligent before she hooked up with Jimmy. But man, may one say; ice-queen! He shrivels at the mere thought.
Miles doesn't do complicated. Considering the talking with dead-thingy, yadayada.., and so on, it seems wise to keep the rest of your life simple. That has always been his position. At first, when Hugo had breathlessly (man, that guy is such a little gossip-girl) updated him on all the sordid details of Kate's entanglement with Jack and the big La-F., Miles had quickly scratched her off his list of possible candidates. The ink hadn't even had time to dry before she was erased. An action that left the list ridiculously short. He had a brief encounter with the blond giggling Cindy working at the storage hall. But then the whole ick-feeling and varicose veins sort of put an end to that. And so the list dwindled to zero.
Nah, fucked up wasn't really what he was looking for. He doesn't know exactly when it happened. He guesses that it just sort of sneaked up on him, this sudden fascination. Sounds sentimental and sissy-like to admit that she grew on him. He'd watch her. At first, purely because, let's face it, she's a bit of a babe, and it was pretty darn entertaining to watch the casualties dragging behind in her backwater. Especially since she is far too self absorbed to realize the fizzle she causes. Jack is like a sick puppy-dog, mooning around kookier than a bag of crazy. Lafleure, badly feigned indifference. Putting on quite good show with it, pretending she is air when his dame is around. Juliet with her constant; what's-she-got puzzlement, permanently poised in Kate's direction. Like she was trying to solve a fricking riddle. What Miles find most amusing is that Kate doesn't even realize that she is the object of their frenzied attention.
But it has become an addiction. He watches her trying so desperately to hide her jealousy. Her pained bravado in face of the golden couple, Jim and Juliet. He watches her wretched attempts to be kind to Jack at the same time giving him the cold shoulder. Sitting alone on that porch, night after night. Her loneliness. He watches, at first detached, disinvested, like one might follow some weird foreign critter on National Geographics.
A pathetic weak creature.
He has a vague picture of how she was when he first saw her, when they were fresh off the freighter. A different person. Hard-nosed, unyielding. Alive. Chasing around like a manic person across the island at every little opportunity. How she duped Lafleure and Locke, so that he could blackmail Ben. And he realizes that she must have lost her spirit somewhere along the way. He thinks that [perhaps it started there. With that realization something begins growing. And god knows why, he is not exactly in a position to help anyone, miserable son-of-a-bitch that he is. But it awakens a desire to find that person again. The brassy, doesn't take crap, Xena. The Ms. bossy-boots-warrior princess he first met.
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He woke up happy this morning. Not that he would let it on. Not to anyone. Least of all to Hugo, the ultimate blabber mouth on the island.
Besides. Miles doesn't do happy. It costs more than it pays off.
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After lunch he takes the way past the carpool to reach their little security office. He's got it bad. He knows this because there are at least four alternative routes back to the office building. All of them shorter. This is what he has been reduced to. He tells himself that it is for the off chance that Juliet and Kate might finally have it out. Yeah, he's hoping for a catfight, that's why he takes this way. Yeah, well that, and he hasn't gotten laid in an infinitely, unmentionable amount of time. That'd be enough to unhinge the most levelheaded guy. Even Miles.
She isn't there.
The disappointment he feels is total and all encompassing. And totally blown out of proportion. He knows this. He isn't normally prone to exaggerations or melodramas. Still. He has to look. She must be there. Have you any idea how hard it is to invisibly crane your neck as you are walking?
And there she is.
Lifting her head up from under the hood of an old jeep. Motor oil on her face, her hair a sweaty mess, cheeks blushed from the heat. He can see every detail all the way from the road. Warrior princess alright. If a little rusty around the corners.
If she smiles,……
At first she just squints as if she is mightily pissed off at someone. Perhaps she is upset about yesterday. Maybe it was a bit harsh. He doesn't even know himself why he said it. He just wanted to crash her equilibrium, wake her up. See some of that rakish 'moxie'-bravado he knows she possesses.
If she smiles, then I'll speak to her…..
And then, there it is; her dirty, oily fucked-up girl smile that stretches across her whole face like something from the Muppet Show.
He wants to squeal like a girl. Effervescence in his heart. It bubbles, fizzes and reminds him of happiness. What the heck is wrong with him? This isn't f-ing Dawson's Creek.
It doesn't matter. She smiled. At him. He finds himself moving in her direction, careful to keep his arrogance and damned-if-I-cared mask in place. But honestly, it takes both hands. He doesn't know what to say. No plan at hand. If he doesn't do this now, he never will.
" Hi there!"
Brilliant Miles. Fucking brilliant! Why don't you dazzle her some more with your wit?
She stands, oilcan in one hand, dirty rag in the other, expectant. Amused. Dirty overalls sagging in all the wrong places, boyish and knockout gorgeous. Sweat that pearls off her upper lip. She doesn't bother to wipe it off. It thrills him for some reason.
" So about that date…?" he says, trying hard to sound cool and stand-offish. It doesn't mean anything. Don't think it does. Just a joke. It's not as if he has been watching her for months, trying to get the courage up. Watching her loneliness. Holding her pitiful, pointless nightly guard on her porch. Her broken heart. Not that he cares at all.
His pulse beats in staccato.
" I'm not gonna sleep with you Miles." She throws the words at him carelessly. Neck defiant and proud. Patient voice suitable for three-year olds and idiots. Yep, he is just a fat big joke.
" I said date. If I'd wanted to get laid I'd have asked someone who pays a bit more attention to personal hygiene", he says dryly, hiding behind his slick cover of snark. " Or someone with lot's of money." Addendum, for extra protection.
The color of her cheeks deepening, he notices as she tips her chin up at him in a disdainful nod. Her eyes the shade, openness and warmth of an armored military tank. He almost wants to duck but she beats him to it.
" Stick a sock in it Miles!" She says brusquely as she bows down behind the hood again.
Hard-ass.
He feels like he has lost this one. He turns around, wet dog, ears drooping, with his tail between his legs. Then, her muffled voice from within the car's intestines.
"You've charmed me alright. I will go out with you. Eight o'clock Miles. You can pick me up at eight o'clock."
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Aw crap, it takes all of his self-control (and he's got plenty) to calm the ridiculously jaunty bounce in his swagger as he makes his way back to the security office. Yeah, now, who's the man?
He capers around the corner of a building and dares to make a little minute,…. alright then; big fat skippety-skip in triumph. He is in mid leap when Jin's voice screeches him to a halt:
" You ok Miles?"