[Daisy] Skipped Time: Day 9: Dinner Time (tag George, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

Daisy made her way toward George. It took a few minutes; being social was a fulltime job, and as everyone was drifting toward the cookfire as dinner time drew near, she had to greet and interact with quite a few people. Nonetheless she eventually reached her destination. George was oblivious, still basking in New Relationship Energy and wrapped up in Carlos.



Carlos noticed. He looked up just as Daisy said, "George, a word?"

"Later, Daisy," George said. She didn't even look up.

"Really, Georgia," Daisy said, a singsong note creeping into her voice. "A word."

George frowned at her. "Really, Daisy--later." Get lost George's eyes said.

Daisy smiled at Carlos. "Excuse us, Carlos. I really, really need to speak to Georgia," she said as she grabbed George's wrist. "Won't take a second." She pulled George to her feet.

Carlos looked ready to intervene but George rolled her eyes and sighed gustily. "Fine," she said petulantly. "I'll be back in a minute," she told Carlos. Daisy stalked off toward the waterline, George in tow.

"Jesus, Daisy! Ow! What the fuck is your problem?" Daisy ignored George's complaints until she reached the hide tide line. They were within sight of the camp but no one would be able to hear them over the surf. She turned to face George.

"You, George," she said. "You're my problem. What do you think you're doing?"

"Jeez, Daisy," George replied, massaging her wrist. "I'm talking to Carlos."

"I'm not talking about that," Daisy said. This was going to be a long conversation if George insisted on being deliberately obtuse. "What's this I hear about you telling people you're a Grim Reaper?"

George looked about to snap back, but Daisy was pleased to see her words take the wind out of George's sails. "Oh," George said quietly. "That."

"Yes--that! You can't do that, Georgia! What on earth possessed you to do it? And please, please tell me you haven't told everyone."

"Not...everyone," George admitted. "Just John. And...Ami. And Mara. And...Dr. Pierson and Quentin. Dr. Jackson, Blaise, Faith...I think that's all."

Daisy stared at George, horrified by the never-ending list. In a moment of uncomfortable clarity she suddenly realized how Rube must have felt on many occasions, facing with cleaning up the aftermath of her own colossal fuck-ups. How on earth had she wound up as the straw boss of their little two-person Reaper team?

"Shit, Georgia, that's--" Words failed her. "How could you?"

"What did you find in the Box of Many Things?" George asked, and Daisy blinked, confused by George's question. "A painting, wasn't it?" George continued.

"Yes," Daisy said. She tried to regain control of the conversation. "But that's not--"

"It was the painting that's supposed to be hanging in our living room, right?"

"Yes, but--"

George fixed her with a steely gaze. "You were the one who told me what you thought that box meant, remember? It meant we didn't just randomly wind up here. We were selected. They chose us. You remember telling me that?"

Daisy nodded, suddenly tired. She didn't want to be having this conversation any longer. Didn't want to think about the implications of the box. She'd successfully put it out of her mind for a couple of days.

"Do you remember what else you told me it meant?" George asked.

"Yes," Daisy said quietly. "They already know about us. All about us."

"Damn right," George said. "So the only people involved in this who don't know are the people on our side. And most of them, maybe all of them, have their own Deep, Dark Secrets. Well, I'm tired of it. There are too many fucking secrets on this goddamn island. If we're gonna get away from here, we have to stop spending all our time and energy keeping secrets from each other."

Daisy listened, marveling at George's fire. She was passionate and engaged. She'd always been passionate, but this focus was new. It suited her. George had grown up over the last two years. More than she had in many, many more years, Daisy thought, though she liked to think that she'd grown some in the last week.

"So I've told some people. I'll probably tell more. I haven't mentioned you and I won't, but--" George stopped talking when Daisy raised a hand.

"Okay, Georgia. You win. I'm not saying I think you're right, but...I'm not saying I think you're wrong either. I just don't know. Just...be sure, okay? This isn't something you can undo." Daisy paused, thinking, and then laughed.

"Well, that isn't necessarily true anymore, is it?" Tara's demonstrated ability to erase memories changed things, didn't it? And perhaps it also proved George's point. Knowing what Tara could do opened up possibilities they'd never have considered before.

George seemed to know what she was thinking. Daisy was relieved when George didn't jump on the point and rub her nose in it. She just smiled gently, apparently content to let Daisy work it out for herself. Daisy smiled back at George, shaking her head slowly.

"When did you get to be so smart?" she asked. She glanced back at camp, where Carlos was keeping a vigilant eye on them. "Go back to your lover," she said, stressing the last word and laughing delightedly when George blushed. "And remember that you still owe me some serious girl talk. I want details, girl. Now, shoo!"

Daisy watched George scamper away to rejoin Carlos, then headed back to her own place at John's side.

Comments

[Mara] Drive-By WTF (tag Daisy, Locke, Charlie, open)

[scarred-muse.livejournal.com]

Mara wandered by with a packet of aspirin in her hand on her way to find Charlie, holding hands with George's ghost. She had been keeping quietly talking to the bedraggled-looking woman whenever no one else was around, and was finishing up telling her about ectoplasm when she got within earshot of the group near the fire and left off for a bit.

"Hi!" she said shyly but cheerfully to Daisy and Locke as she wandered past. She was rubbing her forearms a lot. "It's really nice not having scars anymore," she told the ghost--whom she was thinking of nicknaming Sally because she moved like the Nightmare Before Christmas character--as quietly as she could. So it wouldn't think she was ignoring it.

[Daisy] Drive-By WTF (open tag)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

Daisy stared after Mara long enough for John to ask quietly, "What is it?"

(She's holding hands with--and talking to--George's ghost,) Daisy thought. She hadn't even noticed the absence of George's shadow when she'd been reading her the riot act earlier. (How did that happen?)

"George's ghost seems to have adopted Mara now," Daisy said. She smiled when John glanced at Mara though she knew he couldn't see anything.

John met Daisy's gaze. "She's becoming more active," he said. "Perhaps she's recovering from her trauma."

"I hope so," Daisy said. She hoped that Screaming Guy would recover soon too. Having her sleep disturbed periodically when he ran through camp was getting to be a pain in the ass.

[Mara] No good deed goes unpunished (tag Charlie, fireside folk, open)

[scarred-muse.livejournal.com]

Mara hated crowds, but she circled around the press, following the headache, until she found Charlie hunched on a log with Hurley trying to get him to eat. A look of deep pity gave her eyes that soulful, almost-ready-to-weep look again, and she turned to look for a coconut bowl.

She finally found one, filled it with water, and borught it back. She hesitated a little. /Monkey might hit,/ she thought. But what was she supposed to do?

"Um...Charlie?" she asked in a tiny voice as she moved to his elbow. Both men looked up at her. She drew in on herself a little, but then steeled herself and held out the packet. "I...I found this in my bag."

"Hey, cool!" the big teddybear-guy said, giving her a smile so sweet she lost a lot of her nervousness.

Charlie kept blinking at her like she had just randomly walked up and started talking to him in Greek. "You're not gonna be able to eat around that headache," she said gently. "And the more water you drink, the less it will hurt." /Drown the monkey and flush it out./ "I...I'm sorry that's all I have to give you."

She pressed packet and bowl into his hands and he swallowed. A strange mix of emotions, jagged-edged from the jones, washed over her from him. A little perturbed, she stepped back, lowering her head. "I'll go now," she said softly. "I hope that helps."

She turned around and started to walk away, as the mix of emotions from the blond man got a bit more disturbing by the second.

[Carlos] So, what's up? (tag George, open)

[undead-shot.livejournal.com]

Carlos squashed his worries by going and getting them bowls of turtle stew from the cookpot. When George got back, he handed her one and smiled a little. "I didn't inadvertently scandalize your friend, I hope."

"Huh? Oh, hell no. I actually think she approves."

"Well, that's good. Should I even ask what's up, or is it private friend stuff?"

[George] So, what's up? (tag Carlos, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

"She, uh..." George hesitated, caught between not wanting to keep secrets from Carlos and her promise to Daisy not to share her secrets. "She...knows about me, about me being a--" she glanced around, and lowered her voice, "--Grim Reaper."

"She heard that I've told some people and she was worried that I shouldn't. If she's heard, then I guess it's hit the grapevine. It'll be all over camp by tomorrow. I guess we'll see who thinks I'm nuts and who doesn't.

"Any guesses on which side Amanda takes?" she asked with a grin.

[Carlos] So, what's up? (tag George, open)

[undead-shot.livejournal.com]

Carlos tensed up a little as well. "Well, you know my worries about my old employers finding out about you. But in a situation like this, with everyone packed in tight--ultimately, you're right, I think. Better to be honest than have your dishonesty discovered along with your state of being. I'm just...feeling a little protective." He ate a few bites of stew. "Is that what the big meeting with Daniel and company was about?"

He shook his head at the mention of Amanda the Entitlewhore. "Amanda, Amanda, Amanda. I am getting sick of that name. Believe me, there is nothing attractive about someone who shows you what a catty bitch she is three seconds into meeting her. God help her if she tries to convince me that you're crazy and that that's the latest reason I should hop into her bed like a good dog." His voice was quiet, but annoyed.

[George] So, what's up? (tag Carlos, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

George looked down, grinning maniacally. It really flattered her to hear the scorn in Carlos' voice when he spoke of Amanda. The absolute lack of interest was reassuring. She glanced up and caught Carlos watching her and looked away shyly. (C'mon,) she told herself, (you've been screwing him silly. Surely you can look him in the eye.)

She looked at him again. "What..uh, what were we talking about? Oh--right. The big meeting with Daniel."

George ate some of her stew. "Faith and Mara arrived here the same way we did, in a plane crash. Four people--I think--died. I need to get out there to rescue them, so I told Daniel I wanted to go along when they go out to salvage the wreckage. Faith wanted to know why I was so dead set on going, uh--no pun intended. So I told her. Told them."

[Carlos] Road trip! (tag George, open)

[undead-shot.livejournal.com]

"Jesus, that was gutsy. Guess I should have expected something like that from you. I was just hovering around trying to figure out why you looked so tense, but I didn't want to interrupt."

He considered as she mentioned needing to go out to the crash site. "OK, when are we going? I'll pack up the tent when the time comes. Are you...being open about this the whole way, or do I have to figure out how to distract a shitload of people once we get there?"

There was no way he was staying on the beach with his thing with George so new and Amanda sniffing after him.

[George] Road trip! (tag Carlos, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

"Daniel put Faith and me in charge, can you believe that? But he doesn't want us to go until the other team gets back from the transmitter site, so it won't be for a couple of days, I guess."

George finished her sea turtle stew. "No, I told them why I had to go, so no distractions necessary. Besides, like I said--enough people know by now that it'll be common knowledge very soon. Even if most of them don't believe it, they'll have heard."

She paused, thinking about her conversation with Clarice a few days ago. George glanced at Carlos and smiled, feeling that welcome but unfamiliar thrill she got when she looked at him. "Speaking of which, I need to find Clarice and talk to her."

George told Carlos about Clarice's discovery of her fake passport and the conversation they had. "She's been a friend and I don't want her to hear it from anyone but me...whether she believes it or not. She trusted me, so I need to talk to her now. I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

She gave Carlos a goodbye kiss--which he held and made much more thorough before letting her go. George was distantly aware of a rising chorus of oohs and aahs around them. "Come back soon," he said.

George stared at him, flushed, her breathing suddenly more difficult, and suddenly overcome with the urge to drag him back to the shelter and molest him. "You fight dirty," she said.

"That's how you win."

She grinned at him. "Back soon."

[Ami] No Time Like the Present (tag Carlos, open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

After dinner, Ami spent some time talking to Sun while Scott wandered off with Ripley and Kenzaki, near the shoreline, for an impromptu Japanese lesson. She actually felt bad that she hadn't really spoken to Sun for a few days, realizing that technically she was the only one on the beach who could. Foraging didn't leave much time for idle conversation; especially when the foragers consisted of the likes of Shannon and Amanda from time to time.

Ami loved Scott dearly, but she realized that she was going to have to make more of an effort to spend time away from him and nurturing her friendships on the island. (And, as I keep reminding myself, we do have that always on connection.) When Sun bade her good night, and Ami was left sitting alone, she looked quietly around at her fellow survivors. Her attention lingered particularly long on two specific individuals: Carlos and Clarice.

She had the distinct impression that Clarice was avoiding her; not that Ami ahd made much of an attempt to talk to Clarice since The Night and The Thought, but it nagged at her. She wasn't much for confrontation; avoidance was definitely easier. But the beach was only so big, and eventually she would have to face the woman.

Then there was Carlos. The Past loomed there, even though she was happily with Scott and he clearly connected with George, likely because they hadn't had the opportunity to talk about it. The Past wasn't going to go away, and Ami recalled that she and Carlos had hit it off well - even when they hadn't been having sex - and she hoped that maybe they could be friends. Again, the island was only so big.

She debated for a moment, her attention divided between Carlos and Clarice. George leaving Carlos's side partly made the decision for her. She stood and made her way over towards Carlos, deciding he would be the easier conversation. (What does it say that I think talking to my former lover will be easier than handling whatever is going on with Clarice?)

What does that limey bitch want with him? Isn't one guy on the beach enough for her?

The thought came out of nowhere as Ami stopped by Carlos, who hadn't noticed her approach he was so intently focused on George. She looked around, and caught Amanda glaring at her.

(Wonderful. I'll have to warn George about that one.)

She touched Carlos lightly on the shoulder, "Hiya. Mind if I pull up a piece of beach?"

[George] Finding Clarice (tag Clarice, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

Trudging through the sand away from Carlos was hard to do. Every time he touched her or kissed her, he got her motor racing. George forced herself not to look back lest she go running back to tackle him right there by the fire. (Wouldn't that be a real conversation stopper?)

Clarice, Clarice, where are you Clarice? George surveyed the beach but didn't spot her. Did another, slower scan. Ah ha--there she was. George walked up to her, uncertain of her welcome. Clarice had been spending a lot of time alone lately.

"Clarice? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

[Clarice] Practice Aftermath (tag George, open)

[lambs-heroine.livejournal.com]

Clarice was sitting at the edge of the dinner crowd, trying to weave a cylindrical quiver-basket out of raffia. Her arms hurt, her shoulders hurt, her fingertips were sore from plucking the bowstring, and she'd added another layer of freckle and sunburn to her skin. Lifting her arms caused crunchy noises. But at least she was hitting the target marginally more often than not, now.

Her hair was drying from a quick dip in the ocean. Daniel had been running around all day and they hadn't really seen each other. It made her a little sad, but she had known getting into this that he was hyper-busy all the time. Besides...their very civil and considerate disagreement about firearms had left her kind of confused and unhappy. /I don't doubt that Daniel cares about me. But sometimes I wonder if he respects me all that much./ She knew her self-confidence and self-esteem were at a pretty damn low point right then, though, so she tried not to dwell on it.

When George came up, she gave her a tired smile. "Hey George. Yeah, sure." She scooted over on her log.

[George] Practice Aftermath (tag Clarice, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

"Thanks," George said and took a seat on the log next to Clarice. She glanced at the basket Clarice was working on. "I was weaving some mats last night," she commented, mostly just for something to say. "It's harder than it looks."

Now that she was here, she wasn't feeling so brave. Clarice could be very prickly. George was familiar with that; she could be pretty prickly herself. What if Clarice thought she was crazy--or worse, that she was just making fun with her tales of undead Grim Reapers? But it wasn't going to get any easier for waiting. George took a breath and plunged in.

"You know the other day, when you found my fake passport? And you asked me about it? I told you that you might not want to know everything? You trusted me and didn't insist on dragging the whole story out of me. I appreciate that. Really."

Clarice didn't say anything. She just continued her weaving, looking up frequently and nodding to show that she was listening.

"The thing is, since then I've changed my mind. I think there are too many secrets around here. We--most of us, anyway--spend so much time and energy keeping our secrets, it makes it hard to really work together to find a way off this damn island. I think we need to stop being so secretive, and somebody has to go first."

"So I..." George swallowed. "So I've told a few people my story. The whole story. It's probably going to get around to everybody eventually and I--I wanted you to hear it from me first. You trusted me when I wasn't ready to talk about it, so I want you to know I trust you."

George dug the increasingly crumpled and torn newspaper clippings out of her pocket. "I don't know what you got from the Box of Many Things, but this is what I got," she said, offering it to Clarice.

"I told you before that Georgia Lass is legally dead. This isn't a joke headline or a cover story. This is what really happened to me. I died."

[Clarice] Killed by a Space Toilet (tag George, open)

[lambs-heroine.livejournal.com]

Clarice listened quietly. "Ah...can't say I don't agree with you about too much secrecy, within the bounds of what people can be comfortable with, anyway. Frankly, after some of the stuff ah have been hearing...I'm startin' to get jealous that I have no particularly juicy secrets of my own." She grinned weakly.

When George held them out, she set down her weaving slowly and took the clippings. Read them. Frowned. Blinked slowly.

"Uh. Gimme a minute." She looked at George, who was looking nervous. /Died. George died. Not as in, was legally dead on the table for a few minutes. She got her head caved in by a space-toilet! Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, over?/

Blink.

/Witches, faeries, aliens...what's this now?/

"You want to know the first thing that popped into my head when I read this?"

George fidgeted a little. "Yeah?"

"...something like, 'Wow. I'd be really fucking annoyed if I died that way.'"

A sheepish smile. "The rest of it I'm still tryin' to process. But...ah'm bearin' with you so far...uh...well, mostly, anyway. Heh."

[George] God, will they ever let that go? (tag Clarice, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

"Good," George said. "Good."

She gestured vaguely at the clippings. "So, uh, I died--only I didn't cross over, or walk into the light, or any of that good stuff. I'm...undead. I got drafted to become a Grim Reaper. I collect the souls of the dead."

George pulled another set of papers out of her pocket and unfolded it. "That's why I was on our flight. Almost three hundred people died in the crash, and I had to be there to reap them." Then she watched Clarice to see how she was going to react.

[Clarice] The downed and the saved (tag George, open)

[lambs-heroine.livejournal.com]

Clarice blinked again. "Uh..."

/"One of my coworkers is an alien."/

/"I'm a witch!"/

/"Wanna see a unicorn?"/

/"By the way, I'm undead!"/

/This is my brain going *crack* *tinkle*...at least this time it's for interesting reasons..../

Her expression of stunned astonishment turned mildly exasperated for a moment. /Dammit, am I the only completely fucking ordinary person on this island? I'm starting to feel left out, here!/

"Uh," she managed. George looked worried, and she held up a placating hand while she searched for words.

/Reaper. Here to gather the dead. Here ahead of time, to gather the dead. That dozen screaming children. Everyone./

"This actually isn't the weirdest thing anyone's confided in me lately...." she managed as she tried to wrap her brain around it.

/The whole life-the-universe-and-everything religophilosophical can of worms the prospect opens up is downright scary./

[NPC Amanda] Plotting and Planning (open tag)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

After calming herself down from her sudden case of nerves, Amanda made her way back to the cook fire and Shannon. She'd only been gone a few minutes, and claimed that she needed to stretch her legs when Shannon gave her a patented 'Why'd you leave?' look. From where she sat, she could see Carlos talking to Ami of all people, aways down the beach and her eyes narrowed in annoyance.

(I can't even get a hello out of him and he walks off with her.)

"What the bloody hell is that about?" Amanda asked, her voice rising a bit louder than she intended.

"What?" Shannon followed her gaze to where Carlos and Ami stood talking. "Oh, that. Maybe he likes accents."

"I have an accent. In case you didn't notice, I'm Australian."

"Maybe he likes British accents." Shannon shrugged, "Or maybe he just isn't interested in you, Amanda."

Amanda glared at Shannon, then turning, she caught Harry's eyes on the other side of the fire. He mouthed a word to her, and it took her a moment to puzzle out that the word was 'opportunity.'

Turning her gaze back toward Carlos and Ami, the undeserving pom, Amanda suddenly had the glimmerings of an idea. 'Divide and conquer' were Harry and Ethan's words; find the weakest links and expose them. She suddenly knew how to do precisely that. George was young, naïve and about as plain as they came; Ami was older, certainly more experienced and attractive in that exotic way that got guys attention. There was no way that George could compete with that – she'd have to see how much more interested Carlos was in Ami than George; after all the two were pretty buddy buddy over there right now. It was up to Amanda to make that clear to George, and save her some embarrassment.

And then there was Scott. Amanda was pretty certain that petty jealousy and insecurity could go both ways. Carlos was fit and rugged and muscular, with an air about him that women simply fawned over. How could a skinny bloke like Scott hope to compete with that if Ami's attention was wandering?

(Opportunity. Thanks for the reminder, Harry.)

"I'm going for a walk, Shannon," Amanda said dismissively. (I have some seeds of distrust to plant.)

[George] Mysterious & Reassuring (tag Clarice, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

"Well, in my professional opinion," George said, "there's no ghost there." She didn't see how there could be. She'd see it if it were there, and if her daddy had died so long ago, he was long gone to his afterlife. Even if he'd become a Grim Reaper himself he'd have a physical body again. So...no ghost.

But the idea seemed to make Clarice feel better. "On the other hand," George said, "look where we are. All kinds of mysterious shit goes on around here. If your daddy's ghost is mysterious and reassuring...I say, run with it."

[Clarice] Mysterious & Reassuring (tag George, open)

[lambs-heroine.livejournal.com]

"No ghost. Okay. Well, my own weird-shit-o-meter went off the scale to the point of breaking sometime around noon yesterday, and...it's not spooking me. No more than you are. Which is in the negative numbers really--you're my friend.

"Whatever it is, it doesn't feel like a bad thing. Maybe I should just run with it in some way. Ah mean...there are plenty of cultures that believe ancestors will try and reach back and help out from the afterlife, right?"

George shrugged. "Well, yeah."

"Ah can think of worse weird-ass things to be happening to me, believe me." She smiled a little, wistfully.

Then she shook her head. "So. How is it going, anyway?"

George blinked a little, "Um, what?"

Clarice jerked her chin over to Carlos, who was checking George out occasionally.

[George] Mysterious & Reassuring (tag Clarice, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

George followed Clarice's glance and saw Carlos talking to Ami as they sauntered in her direction. Short, dark hair, dark eyes, a brief flash of his gorgeous smile when he saw her watching him. George felt that silly, cheek-splitting smile fill her face again.

"That good, huh?"

George tore her attention away from Carlos and looked at Clarice. She was watching George with a knowing expression and a smile of her own. George felt both embarrassed to be so easily read and eager to share her excitement with someone else. "It...uhm...yeah. That good. Better!"

[Clarice] Mysterious & Reassuring (tag George, open)

[lambs-heroine.livejournal.com]

Clarice smiled warmly. "That's good, George. That's real good. It can help keep you from cracking in this hellhole. If I didn't have Daniel, I...ah'm not sure where I'd be right now."

/Bottom of the ocean maybe. I was ready to go./

She shook off the thought. "He treatin' you right, then?"

"Oh yeah." There was a very telling quality to George's smile.

"Good, that's good." Clarice seemed a little distracted as she worked on her quiver; her eyes flicked back to Ami, and she looked relieved when Ami started walking away. "Ah...think your man's waitin' on you," she nudged gently, with a faint smile.

[George] Mysterious & Reassuring (tag Clarice, Carlos, open)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I guess he is." George took a step toward Carlos, then turned back to Clarice. "If...you want to talk, you know, about...things, let me know, okay?"

"Sure, George," Clarice said. She glanced up once and gave George a less than completely convincing smile, then her eyes went back to the weaving project. "Ah'll do that."

"Uhm...okay." She was a little uneasy about Clarice's mental state, but there wasn't really much she could do and Clarice seemed ready to be alone again. Or at least to stop talking about it.

George walked up to Carlos. "Hello, sailor. Looking for a good time?"

[Daniel] Room for One More? (tag Clarice, open)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Daniel waited until George and Clarice were done talking, and George walked off with Carlos. They moved like lovers, and Daniel blinked in surprise. (Where the hell have I been that I missed that?)

Blaise's earlier teasing of George sunk in; the words had passed over Daniel's head because he'd been doing the dance of evasion with Quentin, but now they hit home. (I really have to start paying more attention, although romantic relationships aren't any of my business unless they start trouble.)

He made his way to Clarice, mindful that his reception might not be a welcome one. Although their earlier "disagreement" had not resulted in raised voices, he knew that Clarice was upset with him. Her reasons were sound; but he would stand by his as well. She was still borderline in dealing with things, and he thought that he'd only added to that by telling her about the Stargate Program and other things. She seemed like the sort who wanted to be a part of it, but didn't feel like she was worthy. He'd hoped sharing that would help her wrap her mind around the weirdness of the camp, but he wasn't sure that it had been a help at all.

She needed to do something useful, something that didn't involve her thinking she could save the whole world - because he knew personally that it just wasn't possible. No one had that ability; all right, there were races that did, but they didn't use that power because it was considered interference. (Damned if you do, damned if you don't,) Daniel realized.

He stopped a few feet from her, crouching down and catching her eyes. "So, is there room for one more, or should I keep walking?"

[Faith] The Dinner Crowd (open tag)

[fikgirl.livejournal.com]

Faith ended up making several circuits around the camp before she burned off the excess energy. Not that it made much difference in the long run - it would rise back up again sooner rather than later. She was convinced that it was something in the Slayer power that drove them to hunt and stalk; she would settle for screwing too.

Unfortunately for the latter, she had yet to find any seriously good prospects for a rough and roll tumble. The beach was filled with eye candy, seriously yummy eye candy, but most of the yummier varieties had already been snatched up. (That's what happens when you get to the party late,) Faith mused.

But, she hadn't explored all avenues yet: Kenzaki was cute, and had a great ass, she'd seen a rather elusive dark haired guy who's name she hadn't glommed yet, there was the blonde southerner who called her "Xena" when she passed by his tent, and she'd been hit on by a punk named Harry. Harry was not in the running. If she'd still been in the use 'em, break 'em, toss 'em game, he would have been fun, but not so much these days.

(I might just be stuck waiting for Ash to get back here. I hope he wasn't just full of talk, 'cause I'll be all talked out in a few more days.)

Faith talked to Rose, a woman who reminded her a bit of Joyce Summers only calmer, and got a bowl of fish stew - that wasn't half bad - and several pieces of fruit for dinner. She ate quietly, alone, but not feeling lonely. This wasn't like the time spent dining alone in prison, there wasn't that feeling of exclusion. Rather, she felt the curiosity regarding her, and she simply sat back to observe the goings on around the camp: which social groups and cliques had formed; who the loners were and who the losers were.

She made a list and mental commentary: George needed kudos for having snagged a guy who gave Sayid a run for the money in the Wet Panties at a Glance category; Clarice had managed to reel in Daniel; she gave Locke a thumbs up when she saw the hot blonde he had hooked up with. Ami and Scott, who stopped to say good-night to her on their way to their shelter, she already knew about; Faith wondered if there were some pairings that people were trying to keep secret.

After a while, her attention was drawn to the two Barbie Wanna Be's, who kept looking at her and talking in low whispers. Well, they would have been low whispers to anyone without Slayer healing. On closer inspection, she realized that one of them looked at her, while the other divided her glares between Faith and the retreating forms of George and Carlos.

(Ah, petty jealousy, been there, done that, bought the tee shirt,) Faith thought. She shook her head, not really caring that she'd been called a "skank," a "slut," and a "slag" (what the hell is a slag, anyway?) in the span of a few moments. If the Barbie Twins had nothing better to do than gossip about her, then Faith figured they weren't really worth wasting her interests on. This was a survival situation and pettiness just didn't figure into it.

(Three years ago, I would be kicking both their asses, now I just ignore them,) Faith thought with no small amount of pride.

As she stood to make another circuit around the camp and talk to Blaise about watch duty, because Daniel was clearly busy with the little fed, she heard a snatch of conversation from the Barbie Twins.

"Why do you keep going on about it? He's fucking George deal with it, Amanda. Go fuck Harry, or Sawyer, if you're that desperate. Who knows what he sees in her? Who cares?"

Faith couldn't help but quip as she walked past, "George is actually interesting."

(And a grim reaper, which really, no one ever mentioned that in the Slayer training.)

[Shannon] The Dinner Crowd (open tag)

[sinanju.livejournal.com]

Amanda glared at Faith, which told Shannon that in addition to being obsessive she had poorly developed survival instincts. Shannon knew she wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, even if she'd never, ever admit it to anyone. But she could usually tell when it was safe to taunt someone and when it wasn't, and Faith definitely looked like she fell into the latter camp.

"There's only one thing a guy would find interesting about George," Amanda said, rather loudly, "and it's between her l--"

"Jesus Christ, Amanda," Shannon said, "You're getting to be more tiresome than Charlie! Give it a fucking rest!" She seldom used profanity, and drew a startled look from Amanda, followed by resentment.

"Look," Shannon continued, though she wasn't sure why she was bothering. "I don't understand what he sees in George either, you know that." Actually, she did. Harry had pointed it out. But Amanda apparently didn't remember or didn't believe it. "Face facts. Whatever it is, he doesn't see it in you or he'd be dragging you off to screw a dozen times a day."

Amanda glared at her, sparing another hostile glance for Faith, who was shamelessly eavesdropping. "He hasn't given you a second look either, you know," Amanda said--predictably.

Shannon shrugged. It did rankle a bit, but she wasn't about to admit that to Amanda. Certainly not in front of Faith. "His loss," she said.

Amanda scowled, then scrambled to her feet and stalked off in a huff. Shannon watched her for a moment. Amanda would be back soon enough; who else would listen to her bitch about George? In the mean time, Shannon intended to enjoy her reprieve. She went back to filing her nails.