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crossing_lostrpDaisy 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.
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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[Carlos] Yeah, well... (tag George, open)
Date: 2006-05-02 04:41 am (UTC)On the matter of kissing, there was only one proper response. "Oh yeah, resistance is pretty much futile at this point." And he put a hand on the small of her back and performed a fairly decent dipsmooch. "Ta-dum!
"So anyway...." no time like the present, "Just so you know, Ami and I have actually met before. Two years ago. We've been out of touch." He was playing with her hair again, finger-combing a few tangles out and toying with the strands as they walked. "We were actually just catching up."
"You didn't mention that." George sounded mildly surprised.
"No, because I've been too busy being wrapped up in you." He nuzzled her ear. "Mwah. Besides...it's a little awkward. Just a /little/, mind you.
"Ami and I have known each other for two years, but we've been out of touch. We dated for...literally...three days during Carnaval. It was embarrassing for about three seconds when I ran into her here, but then I went, hey, wait, we're both level-headed adults and we're both involved with other people. So, like I said...only a little awkward."
He gave her a one-armed hug and found them a shady spot at streamside to sit down.
[George] You...and Ami? (tag Carlos, open)
Date: 2006-05-02 07:26 am (UTC)There wasn't a lot of potential for embarrassment in running into someone you'd had dinner with. Or someone you'd played tour guide with. No, George had no doubt that "dated" was a genteel way of telling her they'd had a three-day shag-athon. Not that she could blame either of them. George had firsthand experience of just how goddamn sexy Carlos was, and Ami--well, she was gorgeous and exotic and charming.
(How do I feel about this?) George wondered. She examined her feelings cautiously, like someone probing for a bad tooth. Was she jealous? No. (I'm not Amanda.)
George glanced at Carlos, who sat with an arm around her but kept silent, letting her think. George put her arms around him and leaned into him, hiding a smile against his chest. (He's spending his nights in my bed.)
Well, technically, she was spending her nights in his bed, but the point remained. He hadn't taken up with Ami again. Not that he'd have had much chance even if he were interested, the way Ami looked at Scott. And unless she was going to believe he was lying to her, he wasn't interested.
She sat up again and met his eyes. "So, you...'dated', huh?"
[Carlos] Call it practice if you'd like.... (tag George, open)
Date: 2006-05-02 04:50 pm (UTC)"We did what I'd like to do with you sometime when we get out of here--Carnaval. Huge amounts of fun, if you can avoid looking at the silicone-fests at the beach. Brazilians have this bikini obsession."
"You don't?"
Carlos thought. "I think you'd look great in a bikini; I mean, hey, I'm a guy. Less clothing on a woman is generally happy-making, especially when she's someone I'm deeply interested in screwing silly on a regular basis." He leaned over for another kiss, touching the insides of her lips with his tongue. "But it becomes a competition thing with this crowd. Who's the darkest tanned, whose outfit is the skimpiest, whose boobs are sculpted most expensively in order to look the best in them...I mean, yeah, eye candy, but the personality that usually goes with that kind of catty competition is...heh. Let's just say it's part of why I'm thoroughly Amanda-proofed."
[George] Stifling The Inner Voice (tag Carlos, open)
Date: 2006-05-03 06:29 am (UTC)It was an unfortunate brilliant red that made her think of "Baywatch," but the only other possibilities were scraps of fabric more immodest than Shannon's sunbathing outfit, and...no. Just no. George preferred more coverage than that in public. In private, with Carlos, bare skin was fine--uniform of the day, in fact. It was the middle ground that she wasn't comfortable with.
She turned and threw a leg over Carlos to settle onto his lap. George knew Carlos had been relieved by her calm reaction to his previous relationship with Ami. So was she, for that matter. It would be far too easy to screw this up if she weren't careful. George wasn't sure what "this" was, but she knew she didn't want to screw it up.
It might turn out to be a short-lived affair, a few thrilling days (and nights) of passionate sex before they cooled off and drifted apart. George hoped not, but she wsa trying to avoid expectations of any kind, even inside her own head. That could fuck you up real quick--setting you up for disappointment when things didn't work out the way you'd planned.
Not that the zen approach was entirely successful. She'd already given some thought to Rio, and to learning Portugese for God's sake! Two whole days together--two days of frequent, mind-blowing sex, mind you--and she was considering changing her entire life around. That was nuts! Wasn't it? But it would be even more nuts to walk away from this.
George shook her head, earning a puzzled look from Carlos. (Enough thinking,) George told herself. She leaned forward and kissed Carlos. Just kissed him. No impromptu lap dance, no roaming hands, no expectations, no anticipation. Just a long, slow kiss because she liked kissing him, even when it wasn't leading to anything.
And because while she was enjoying the kiss, her interior voice went silent, perhaps because it was enjoying the kiss too. For the duration of the kiss, she was completely in the moment. Very zen.
[Carlos] Everyone's got fears (tag George, open)
Date: 2006-05-03 06:11 pm (UTC)She shook her head and kissed him, and it was sweet and clinging and made the beach go away for a few seconds.
"MMn. Oh man. You know, for a guy in a desperate survival situation, I am having entirely too much fun. And you are to blame."
"Yeah?" her smile was a little tentative, and he cupped her face and started covering it with light kisses until she giggled.
"Yeah. Definitely. I mean, come on. I show up, I meet someone really neat who is fun to be around, can handle my risky-ass calling, is just, oo, so wonderfully fuckable--" he kissed her neck ticklishly, "And even manages to take the edge off my worries about dying in this place."
"I did?"
He laughed a little. "Hell yeah. I mean...for you this whole reaper business seems to be just a job. For me, though...well...learning for a /fact/ that there is an afterlife sort of takes a lot of the teeth out of my fear of death. Which is good--I mean, everybody faces it, now, later, whatever. And you, young lady, are to blame for that as well." He kissed the tip of her nose.
[George] Everyone's got fears (tag George, open)
Date: 2006-05-04 06:39 am (UTC)Then she leaned back so she could look at him. "Wonderfully fuckable, huh? You say the sweetest things!"
She made a show of searching her memory. "As I recall, you're not so bad yourself. In fact, sitting here like this--" and she rocked her hips a little to emphasize the point, "--gives me...ideas. How about you take me somewhere private so I can refresh my memory?"
[Carlos] Everyone's got fears (tag George, open)
Date: 2006-05-04 09:12 pm (UTC)He laughed a little. "I'm talking like my aunt Carmen now. She's the one that raised me. Umbandistas are pretty romantic people from what I've seen, and she's worse than most of them."
Broad grin as the conversation turned saucy. He leaned down and started murmuring in her ear. "Yes, I do think you're wonderfully fuckable. You're so much fun to get to relax and open up...and when you get going, my God.... I love it when you lose control and end up all over me. It's fucking amazing. Sometimes it gets me worried I'll end up hurting you, but you always seem to enjoy it . I love...the look of amazement you get when we try something new and you like it. And all those wonderful little sounds you make. It's completely addictive." He kissed her neck in the spot where a small mark had appeared, and nipped gently at the skin with his teeth.
At her suggestion and movements, his smile became sly and he felt a tightening in his groin. "No problem," he rasped softly, and rose, helping her up.
No point walking all the way back through camp; they headed instead to their mossy spot in that ring of trees. Carlos had taken to carrying a rolled-up mat with him to take advantage of their odd moments of privacy together; he laid it out and took off his boots, already starting to shudder a little with anticipation.
Undressing wasn't methodical; he started stripping off his shirt and her hands were there, sliding up over his belly and helping to push up the cloth. They both fumbled at her belt and his and for a while there was a lot of impatient tumbling and groping and kissing. Finally they got their shorts kicked off and he was kneeling on the mat and reaching for her.
He bit back a groan as he slid into her and pulled her down firmly against him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and he cupped her hips with his hands.
He coaxed her to lean back a little, bracing her with his arms, and bent his head to kiss and nibble and suckle her breasts. "This more like it?" he asked in a strained whisper as he started to move. "Ohhh...oh, I would definitely say so...."
[George] My god, I'm full of endorphins!
Date: 2006-05-06 03:46 am (UTC)George thought he knew her body better than she did at this point, knew exactly when and where and how to touch her and kiss her and fondle her to keep her writhing in pleasure. Knew, too, how to tease her relentlessly, until he wore down her self-control and she lost whatever inhibitions she still held. George groaned and gasped and cried out without a thought for where she was or whether anyone could hear her.
The teasing had another effect as well. By the time she begged Carlos to let her come, the tension was unbearable. He finally relented and let George set the pace. She pushed him onto his back and rode him with single-minded intensity, stifling his own sounds of pleasure with fierce open-mouthed kisses.
Carlos had been testing her patience for a long while now, and the frantic pace she was enough at last to send her, not once but over and over again. Carlos reached his own climax while she was coming, and the feeling of that only added to her pleasure. It went on and on, until she thought it might never stop. That had never happened to her before. She'd never made noises like that before, either.
When it was over, she was laughing uncontrollably, gasping for breath. She was dizzy and giddy and her whole body was singing with the aftereffects. (I'm high,) she realized vaguely, (high on endorphins.) She laughed some more. It was funny! And she felt so goddamn good!
The minutes passed. George slowly calmed, coming down from that unprecedented high, relaxing into Carlos' arms. She felt utterly limp. Just turning her head to look at him seemed almost impossible. The heavy lidded look in his eyes suggested that he felt likewise.
"I hope that was adequate," he whispered.
George had thought she was done laughing, but now she began giggling. She knew the ritual answer to that question, the highest praise imaginable.
"Oh no," she said, "You weren't just adequate. You were more than adequate."