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crossing_lostrp2007-03-18 08:09 pm
fikgirl.livejournal.com) wrote in crossing_lostrp2007-03-18 08:09 pm
[Sawyer/James] Back at the Beach . . .
Who: James/Sawyer
Where: The Beach
When: After Ami's vanishing act
Invited: Any Beachers
Status: Incomplete
"What in the hell?" James stormed into the clearing as the very cute Brit disappeared in a flash of light and energy. The dog yelped and ran forward, sniffing and digging anxiously at the spot where she'd been. Walt looked like the proverbial kid in the toy store, right before he frowned at James.
"You weren't supposed to see that."
"See what? What the hell just happened? Where'd she go?" James halted a few paces outside of where Ami should have been and turned in a slow circle. Losing their memories in some sort of weird ass freak/chemical/radiation or whatever caused mass hysterical amnesia was weird, but not as weird as people disappearing into thin air. (People do not disappear into thin air.)
"She teleported."
James glared at the boy. "I think we have enough goin' on 'round here, Walt that we don't need to start makin' up –"
"I'm not making it up! She teleported!" Walt tilted his head and furrowed his brow. "You know what teleporting is?"
"Hell yes, I know what teleporting is! I may be grown but I'm not stupid. Seen some Star Trek in my time," James stepped to the left, then the right, careful of the dog. One of the first things he learned upon 'waking' was that for some reason or another, the damn dog didn't like him much. Seemed to tolerate him well enough, but didn't like him. Of course, James didn't much like the dog, so he figured he wasn't a dog person.
"But," James continued, "You are not going to tell me that Scotty just beamed her up."
"No, she did it herself. That's what she does. And you weren't supposed to see it."
James opened his mouth, realized he didn't have a retort – and that it was ridiculous to argue with a ten-year-old kid – and closed it again. Instead of responding, he wandered around the small clear area, searching for clues or hidden trap doors, well aware of Walt watching him with more than a bit of amusement.
"What?" James finally demanded.
"You're not going to find anything. She teleported."
"Let's say that I believe you and that she teleported, where did she go?"
"The bunker," Walt shrugged. Even the dog had given up looking for her and was digging in a patch of dirt.
"The bunker?"
"Uh huh. The one on that map that that guy Sayid has."
"How'd you know 'bout that?"
"Nobody pays attention to kids unless you're talking about death or sex, and then you pay attention to the kids."
"Walt!" Michael burst into the area, looking worried. He visibly sagged with relief at the sight of his son. "Thank god! I didn't know what happened to you. You just ran off and –"
"I took Vincent for a walk."
"I saw him headin' off, Michael," James said. "I should have told you, but figured I'd just follow him. We were just 'bout to head back."
"Is that so?" Michael looked at Walt and James tried not to be offended. After all, they didn't know each other. No one knew anyone. James could be a lunatic or a pedophile or worse. Still, it smarted.
"Yeah, that's it. Really. Dad."
James clapped Michael on the shoulder as he walked past, "Kids."
(I sure as hell hope I don't have any.) That thought was followed by a still disbelieving, (Teleported?!)
Where: The Beach
When: After Ami's vanishing act
Invited: Any Beachers
Status: Incomplete
"What in the hell?" James stormed into the clearing as the very cute Brit disappeared in a flash of light and energy. The dog yelped and ran forward, sniffing and digging anxiously at the spot where she'd been. Walt looked like the proverbial kid in the toy store, right before he frowned at James.
"You weren't supposed to see that."
"See what? What the hell just happened? Where'd she go?" James halted a few paces outside of where Ami should have been and turned in a slow circle. Losing their memories in some sort of weird ass freak/chemical/radiation or whatever caused mass hysterical amnesia was weird, but not as weird as people disappearing into thin air. (People do not disappear into thin air.)
"She teleported."
James glared at the boy. "I think we have enough goin' on 'round here, Walt that we don't need to start makin' up –"
"I'm not making it up! She teleported!" Walt tilted his head and furrowed his brow. "You know what teleporting is?"
"Hell yes, I know what teleporting is! I may be grown but I'm not stupid. Seen some Star Trek in my time," James stepped to the left, then the right, careful of the dog. One of the first things he learned upon 'waking' was that for some reason or another, the damn dog didn't like him much. Seemed to tolerate him well enough, but didn't like him. Of course, James didn't much like the dog, so he figured he wasn't a dog person.
"But," James continued, "You are not going to tell me that Scotty just beamed her up."
"No, she did it herself. That's what she does. And you weren't supposed to see it."
James opened his mouth, realized he didn't have a retort – and that it was ridiculous to argue with a ten-year-old kid – and closed it again. Instead of responding, he wandered around the small clear area, searching for clues or hidden trap doors, well aware of Walt watching him with more than a bit of amusement.
"What?" James finally demanded.
"You're not going to find anything. She teleported."
"Let's say that I believe you and that she teleported, where did she go?"
"The bunker," Walt shrugged. Even the dog had given up looking for her and was digging in a patch of dirt.
"The bunker?"
"Uh huh. The one on that map that that guy Sayid has."
"How'd you know 'bout that?"
"Nobody pays attention to kids unless you're talking about death or sex, and then you pay attention to the kids."
"Walt!" Michael burst into the area, looking worried. He visibly sagged with relief at the sight of his son. "Thank god! I didn't know what happened to you. You just ran off and –"
"I took Vincent for a walk."
"I saw him headin' off, Michael," James said. "I should have told you, but figured I'd just follow him. We were just 'bout to head back."
"Is that so?" Michael looked at Walt and James tried not to be offended. After all, they didn't know each other. No one knew anyone. James could be a lunatic or a pedophile or worse. Still, it smarted.
"Yeah, that's it. Really. Dad."
James clapped Michael on the shoulder as he walked past, "Kids."
(I sure as hell hope I don't have any.) That thought was followed by a still disbelieving, (Teleported?!)