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

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

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.

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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."

"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.

"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."

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?"

Amanda had been trying to catch his attention since George had left. She was sitting in his line of sight as he finished his meal; she kept flipping her hair or toying with her (diamond solitaire) necklace or fiddling with the top few buttons on her blouse. /Yes, yes, you've got a nice genetic endowment which you've utterly ruined with bad attitude, too much money and silicone. I live in Rio. This is supposed to be new and refreshing to me? Usually I get it packaged in bikinis that look like pasties with strings./ He sighed, and kept his eyes on George as she walked away towards the little redhead who always seemed to be avoiding the crowd.

Ami's hand on his shoulder startled him slightly. The contact was the first they'd had since he'd seen her off at the Rio airport, and yes there was a bit of a spark there, but it was manageable. "Uh," he said for a moment, then shrugged. /Hell with it./ "Sure, go right ahead."

Ami felt Carlos's slight hesitance, but she relaxed when he didn't completely tense up and run in the other direction. She smiled at him as she sat down, friendly and unassuming. "I thought that maybe we should talk, clear the air."

Ami noticed that the conversations around them were growing softer, particularly the one between Amanda and Shannon across the way and she shifted easily into Portuguese. "This island is only so big, and we can't avoid each other, and I don't want to. You're a fantastic bloke, Carlos, and I'd like to think that given the fact that we are both very much involved, that we could be friends?"

What does she have that I don't have? He'll talk to her, pay attention to her, and ignore me for that little girl, George? It has to be the accent. She's not all that pretty either. And George? She's just ugly.

Ami turned slightly and glared hard at Amanda, empathically pushing a surge of annoyed disgust in the other woman's direction. Amanda gasped, hand tugging on the button of her blouse and sending it flying somewhere across the beach. As Amanda jumped to her feet, clearly spooked, but unsure why, Ami felt a smug smile cross her face.

She resisted the urge to knock Amanda's feet out from under her telekinetically. But really, Ami did tend to get protective of her friends.

Returning her attention to Carlos, she asked, "Could we maybe take a walk? I'm not much liking the company here. And," she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "I promise. I don't bite."

"I was waiting for George," Carlos said--but screw it, George was down the beach and they could walk that way. Besides, it got him away from Amanda's constant scrutin--huh, there she was jumping up and leaving. Odd.

He got up and started walking with her in that general direction, speaking Portuguese. "I think we're pretty much on the same page," he said quietly. Lust and regret were still there, but--/yeah, yet another reason I pushed George a bit fast. I'll have to make it up to her. Or take it out on her./ "About the company, too." He sighed. "Apparently, the second George and I hooked up, I picked up a stalker."

He thought for a while as he walked. "George is already friends with you, and she knows my feelings about infidelity pretty damn straight by now. But what about Scott? He gonna worry?"

/Do I have to ask him if his intentions are honorable, dammit?/ His thought was warm and a little ironic.

"Shannon and Amanda are a matched set, I think," Ami said, continuing to speak in Portuguese, as she and Carlos ventured down the beach, away from Shannon's and now Harry's curious gazes. "The Entitlement Twins."

Ami paused, feeling a bit guilty for her remark about Shannon. "I suppose I should give Shannon a bit of break. She did lose her brother the second day here. But Amanda ... I didn't realize how spoiled she was until a few days ago." Ami gave a patented Ice Cold Bitch Stare to Harry as they passed him, watching the leer slide from his face. "And that one is just a plain ass. Worse than Sawyer.

"With all the eyes on us, I'm beginning to wonder if I haven't grown a second head or something."

Ami shook her head and smiled when he asked about Scott. "Scott won't be a problem." (And if it is, I'll just have to go the extra distance to remind him that he's the only man in my life.)

Do I have to ask him if his intentions are honorable, dammit?

Carlos's stray thought made her giggle and cover her mouth. "Good lord, no, don't do that."

Carlos looked at her, a bit shocked and Ami wondered how to salvage the situation. Then, she decided that she wasn't going to. George was right about trusting people, and George already knew her secret; and she trusted the man enough to run off with him without even a 'by your leave' years ago, and to throw herself into his bed, now was not the time to question the trust.

Besides, he knew about George too and he was sleeping with her.

Ami gave him a sheepish smile, "This is probably not going to come as a big shock to you once you put all the pieces together, but I'm not exactly normal, Carlos. I'm telepathic."

Carlos sighed and shook his head. "People like that have no right to keep their bullshit up in a survival situation. I bet they don't even gather their own food unless someone pokes them with a stick."

"You'd be right."

/In a rebel camp, they'd have been refused food until they did their share. It's brutal, but sometimes I wonder if it isn't necessary. Oh well. I'm not going to take someone else's supreme selfishness personally unless it prompts them to hurt others./

Carlos heard about Harry, looked at Harry, and thought, /This guy's obsequious as fuck and not too bright./ Once Ami's scowl had cooled him down, Carlos gave him a smile-blink-headshake that was friendly-but-shocked. Sort of a hey, how ya doing--uh.../what/ are you doing?

Harry blinked, and looked at him curiously, as if trying to figure out a. why he seemed friendly and b. what he thought Harry had done that was particularly shocking. Carlos just gave him another confused look, and kept walking. /Keep your enemies closer,/ he reminded himself.

"Everyone's tense and horny and maing weird assumptions. You'd be amazed at the kind of fucked up poliltics that crop up in some survival situations. People are already emotionally unbalanced, a rumor gets started...." he shrugged. "I try to avoid that sort of crap as much as possible."

On hearing Scott would be all right with their being friends, he gave a relieved smile. "That's good. He seems like a good guy, and I don't want him getting all uneasy if I pop by with walking sticks and Japanese lessons. It's not the first time I've dealt with chemistry with a platonic friend, anyway. These things happen."

And then...er....

/?!?/

/OK, I know I didn't say that aloud. I understand that I have very few unexpressed thoughts, but really, that wasn't one of them..../

And then came the rather sheepish explanation.

/Mind-reader./

Blink.

/I'm dating a Grim Reaper, the woman I was attracted to before that was a virally-enhanced superwoman, and the one who really blew my mind before that...is a telepath?/

Blink.

/I'm a complete freak. That's all there is to it. I think my sexual preference may be Superhuman, by this point..../

He started laughing.

"Oh God, that just figures!" he said, and continued laughing.

Then...the laughter faded as a thought occurred to him.

/Damn. I wonder if that had anything to do with all those feelings of---oh God. DOWN boy, don't let your brain go there./

He chuckled and shook his head at himself.

"I'm starting to think that 'normal' is a myth, Ami. Especially around here. Though for the record...I'm completely ordinary, myself, except for some stuff that I know now."

"I've been trying my whole life to be normal," Ami said quietly, with a smile. "Now I find out that maybe I'm going about the whole thing wrong.

"I'm glad you're the sort that can take all this in stride," Ami continued. "I know that a lot of people couldn't. Can't. This place just keeps getting stranger and a lot of people are going to fall apart when their world goes askew."

She glanced to where George and Clarice were talking, and from the serious looks on their faces, decided that she wouldn't approach Clarice quite yet. Then she looked back at Carlos, "By the way, I didn't tell George about Rio. I didn't think it was my place. And, it would have been extraordinarily tacky, I think."

"I can't take this all in stride, Ami. Or at least, when you knew me last, I couldn't. I got my narrow view of reality busted wide open in the last six months. Big time." At her look, he sighed. "I don't want to get into it right now, but I'll tell you the whole goddamned story when you're feeling settled and ready for a dose of ugliness."

She blinked at him, and then ventured, "...old job?"

He nodded grimly. "I found out that being there made me the perfect inside man against those bastards, but...ah. Look. It's a long, ugly story."

George had seen them, and he waved to her cheerily.

When Ami mentioned Rio, Carlos's smile faded. He looked down, and then sighed. "I'll tell her. I hadn't yet because frankly? We're too new, and I don't want even the opportunity for her to start doubting herself when there's really no need."

"Then we can swap horror stories sometime," Ami said, "Or in my case, science fiction chronicles. But there's no rush. We've got about six months to carve out a niche here."

"Uh, six months?"

Ami nodded. "It's a long story. It goes in with those science fiction chronicles I was telling you about, but, yeah, chances are good we won't be able to reach anyone for six months. No matter how good of a signal the Doctor and Rodney manage to send out."

She waved to George as well, and swatted a few strands of hair away from her face, "I can't offer any advice on whether or not you should tell George. You're a far better judge of your relationship than anyone else, and I certainly don't want to do anything that might upset George, even when there's no cause for upset. She's my friend and I don't operate like that.

Ami cast her gaze down the beach, automatically zooming in on Scott without even trying. Her face softened and lit up, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. "Too new? That won't last long. I think things happen a lot faster around here than they would outside of this barmy place."

Carlos smiled wistfully. "She's one hundred percent no bullshit, she's a hell of a lot of fun, and I'm glad you guys are already friends. You know me. I never do things halfway. I'll tell her, I'll point out the whole past-tense-for-one-weekend part, and she knows I'm ethical. It'll be ok. I just...did not want to bring it up during our first night together."

"Well, that makes sense."

"I just...Jesus. Six months." He blinked, then sat back slowly.

"Six months means long-term plans. And it also means we'll need a lot of durable stuff made...chairs, benches, food storage--probably bamboo racks for air-drying things...that's at least one growing season in the tropics...." His eyes tracked back and forth, and then lifted back to her. "And learning to get along as something resembling a community. Which is promising in some areas, not so in others." He shook his head. "It's all right, you just handed me a lot to think about."

He looked back over at George, and smiled. /Six months. Hey, at least good company's not hard to find./

"It's going to take some work, but I think a good percentage of the people here can handle it," Ami said. "I think that George is right about some things...people need to come forward with their skills and their strengths. I'm still having some problems with that; trusting people about my 'special' talents.

"But knowing that it's a possibility means that people will have to start putting things in perspective and truly figuring out how to survive."

Ami sighed, and looked around the beach. "Too bad we can't get rid of all the dead weight, send them out into the jungle on their own; but something tells me that approach just wouldn't go over well with a lot of the people here."

"I certainly agree, and I'll be coming forward. Gonna have to come up with some sort of info packet on my old bosses too, show it around to some select people. Especially those who've come out to me about having paranormal abilities. Yeah...like I said, ugly weird story. I suggest a Scott on teddybear duty for it, believe me.

"And for the record...Ami, there are some bad elements in the world, and some of these people seem damn shortsighted. I don't know if complete openness is warranted, even here. Though I'm glad you told me. It does put some things seriously into perspective."

"Exile is going to have to come up as a solution for the worst troublemakers if they don't learn fairly quickly. In a situation like this, extreme selfishness can cost someone else their life. And honestly? Though some people grow up admirably under pressure, others stick in place until they die and maybe take someone else with them.

"Of course, even exile can be temporary." He snorted. "God, what a grim subject. You know I found guarana berries? I can make my favorite tea again!"

"I know plenty about bad elements," Ami remarked quietly. She did her best to not allow those memories to surface, but they were always there these days, lingering on the edge of her awareness. Since the night of the attack on the camp, they lurked there, just waiting for the opportunity to creep in and overwhelm her.

Ami laughed at Carlos's excitement over the tea. "It's the little things isn't it? Tea, and the high-octane coffee that Ripley found. I heard she brought back bags of it, but grinding it will take some time, and apparently Rodney was the man at the helm of brewing it."

Thinking of the coffee made Ami think of how she and Scott spent the day following imbibing of said coffee, and she felt herself flush with warmth. (Not here, not now.) She glanced down the beach to where he was still talking to Kenzaki, and the situation was not helped when he turned instinctively towards her and gave her a way, a pulse of ardor and affection rippling over their link.

/Now who's a tease,/ she shot at him, but she returned the wave and returned her attention to Carlos, who seemed to be suitably distracted by George.

Ami gave him a smile, "I just wanted a chance to talk you and touch base. I definitely don't want to keep you from George. I'm glad that we're on the same page.

"And it really is good that you're here. I do think that your knowledge and expertise will be a great asset."

Carlos smiled back. "Hey, look, we always got on well, and besides, you know me--I have always wanted to find some purpose higher than fighting for politics or corporate secrets. Helping a bunch of castaways survive in the weirdest freakin' circumstances in the history of circumstances...heh...that fits the bill for me just fine.

"Rodney, huh? I'll have to take a turn gathering and grinding as a thank-you."

He looked back over at George, and then nodded as Ami started to say her goodbyes. "Yeah, thanks for coming down. I never know how to start these conversations, I swear." Sheepish grin.

He didn't touch her. But he figured, hey, telepath, she'd probably know his intentions and that a friendly hug would still have struck sparks and caused whispering.

"Hey, when you go see your sweetie and Kenzaki, let them know I'm available for them and Ripley to do cross-tutoring. When I'm not...needed, anyway." Another glance at George.

He waved as she walked off. "Have a good day!"

He turned then and headed for George, hanging back to wait for her to finish her conversation. The redhead caught his eye and he nodded to her; she smiled a bit, and nodded back, mouthing "done here in a sec."

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

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

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