![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
fikgirl.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
crossing_lostrp"C'mon then, it's time to wake up already."
Megabyte heard the voice and pretended not to, clutching his pillow to his face. There was no possible way that it could be morning already. He could have sworn he'd only lie down to go to sleep mere minutes before.
"You're not fooling anyone you know." Fingertips danced down his bare chest, then up his side, tickling his ribcage. "I know you're awake under there, MD. I can tell by your breathing."
"I'm not awake," Megabyte protested, groggily through the feather pillow. "And I'm talking in my sleep."
"I'm not buying." The bed bounced and a warm, soft, very feminine weight landed on him, straddling his hips. This time the touch of fingers on his chest was not nearly as playful, nor were the movements of her body. "Do I have to resort to drastic measures?"
Peeking out a bit from beneath the pillow, and squinting at the brilliance of the sunlight that bathed the bedroom, Megabyte focused on Claire's smiling – and some what mischievous – face. He protested less than mightily, his voice bland and quiet. "No. Please don't resort to drastic measures."
Claire grinned wickedly and leaning slowly forward, yanked the pillow from his head and hit him with it. Then a second time as she tried to scramble away from him before he could retaliate. Newly awakened, his reactions were sluggish, and he barely managed to grab her around the waist and drag her back up against him. She squealed in his arms, but her 'struggles' weren't all that effective. In a few moments, Claire was in his lap, kissing him tenderly. His hand worked its way beneath her gown and -
Megabyte's eyes popped open, staring at the bits of sunlight that managed to filter through the strangler vine in which he'd taken refuge. He blinked for a minute, startled by the transition, then groaned as waking consciousness fully separated itself from the dream. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sat up simultaneously relieved and hating the fact that the dream was slipping away from him so quickly.
It took another moment for his brain to process that fully.
(I'm dreaming about Claire now. I am in so much trouble.)
On the positive side, he felt far more refreshed and relaxed than he had when Charlie rudely woke him from a much needed nap.
(But I'm *dreaming* about Claire.)
Megabyte didn't need Freud or a psychologist to tell him what that meant. (I am so fucked. And I don't mean that literally.)
Running and hiding weren't working, so he was simply going to have to deal with this head on. It wasn't like he hadn't crushed on an attractive female before; when you were more of the geek than the Adonis, crushing on the opposite sex happened a lot. Unfortunately, crushing sometimes led to flirting and flirting led to hoping ... and that wasn't a road he could afford to go down with Claire. His romantic interest in her was a concern that she didn't need right now. Especially if they really were going to be stuck on the island for six months if what Ami told him was true; he had no reason to doubt that it was. Claire would end up having her baby here, and she needed support and friends, not some strange, psychic (and let's not forget how Claire feels about psychics) Yank mooning over her.
Life here was complicated enough.
(Jesus, for once why can't I develop an interest in a woman I actually have a chance with?)
Shaking his head, Megabyte sighed and steeled himself. He was going to have to find a way to deal with this. How, he didn't know yet, but hopefully he'd figure it out eventually. In the interim, he pushed the dream as far to the back of his mind as he could, gathered his blanket and pillow and crawled out of the nice, snug, but very good to sleep in strangler vine. The sun's position told him that he'd managed to sleep for a good four or so hours, which surprised him, but also explained why he felt (sort of) well-rested.
Getting his bearings wasn't a problem. He had a fairly good sense of direction and in no time at all, he passed by Dr. Pierson's still that he would be babysitting and was headed back toward camp. As he passed a flowering hibiscus tree, he impulsively plucked one of the bright red flowers.
Reaching the beach, he dropped off the blanket and pillow at the tent, and looked around until he spotted his target: sitting in the shade of her shelter, surrounded by palm fronds, weaving . . . something. Megabyte headed directly towards the blonde head, holding the flower behind his back. When he reached her shelter, but she didn't look up, he grinned cockily, "Hey there."
Claire jumped; evidently she hadn't heard his approach. She turned a bit pink and scolded him, "Damon! Don't you know better than to sneak up on a pregnant woman?"
He frowned in mock consternation. "Oh. I thought the guidelines said *sneak up on a pregnant woman whenever possible.* My bad.
"Ah well," Megabyte crouched down across from her, "I found something growing in the jungle. Maybe this will make up for my faux pas?" Grinning again, he presented the flower with a flourish. "Hibiscus. And I only know that because my mother grew them for years."
OOC: I'm assuming that Megabyte sleeps for a while, so this takes place sometime after Claire's impromptu Japanese lesson with Kenzaki.
Megabyte heard the voice and pretended not to, clutching his pillow to his face. There was no possible way that it could be morning already. He could have sworn he'd only lie down to go to sleep mere minutes before.
"You're not fooling anyone you know." Fingertips danced down his bare chest, then up his side, tickling his ribcage. "I know you're awake under there, MD. I can tell by your breathing."
"I'm not awake," Megabyte protested, groggily through the feather pillow. "And I'm talking in my sleep."
"I'm not buying." The bed bounced and a warm, soft, very feminine weight landed on him, straddling his hips. This time the touch of fingers on his chest was not nearly as playful, nor were the movements of her body. "Do I have to resort to drastic measures?"
Peeking out a bit from beneath the pillow, and squinting at the brilliance of the sunlight that bathed the bedroom, Megabyte focused on Claire's smiling – and some what mischievous – face. He protested less than mightily, his voice bland and quiet. "No. Please don't resort to drastic measures."
Claire grinned wickedly and leaning slowly forward, yanked the pillow from his head and hit him with it. Then a second time as she tried to scramble away from him before he could retaliate. Newly awakened, his reactions were sluggish, and he barely managed to grab her around the waist and drag her back up against him. She squealed in his arms, but her 'struggles' weren't all that effective. In a few moments, Claire was in his lap, kissing him tenderly. His hand worked its way beneath her gown and -
Megabyte's eyes popped open, staring at the bits of sunlight that managed to filter through the strangler vine in which he'd taken refuge. He blinked for a minute, startled by the transition, then groaned as waking consciousness fully separated itself from the dream. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sat up simultaneously relieved and hating the fact that the dream was slipping away from him so quickly.
It took another moment for his brain to process that fully.
(I'm dreaming about Claire now. I am in so much trouble.)
On the positive side, he felt far more refreshed and relaxed than he had when Charlie rudely woke him from a much needed nap.
(But I'm *dreaming* about Claire.)
Megabyte didn't need Freud or a psychologist to tell him what that meant. (I am so fucked. And I don't mean that literally.)
Running and hiding weren't working, so he was simply going to have to deal with this head on. It wasn't like he hadn't crushed on an attractive female before; when you were more of the geek than the Adonis, crushing on the opposite sex happened a lot. Unfortunately, crushing sometimes led to flirting and flirting led to hoping ... and that wasn't a road he could afford to go down with Claire. His romantic interest in her was a concern that she didn't need right now. Especially if they really were going to be stuck on the island for six months if what Ami told him was true; he had no reason to doubt that it was. Claire would end up having her baby here, and she needed support and friends, not some strange, psychic (and let's not forget how Claire feels about psychics) Yank mooning over her.
Life here was complicated enough.
(Jesus, for once why can't I develop an interest in a woman I actually have a chance with?)
Shaking his head, Megabyte sighed and steeled himself. He was going to have to find a way to deal with this. How, he didn't know yet, but hopefully he'd figure it out eventually. In the interim, he pushed the dream as far to the back of his mind as he could, gathered his blanket and pillow and crawled out of the nice, snug, but very good to sleep in strangler vine. The sun's position told him that he'd managed to sleep for a good four or so hours, which surprised him, but also explained why he felt (sort of) well-rested.
Getting his bearings wasn't a problem. He had a fairly good sense of direction and in no time at all, he passed by Dr. Pierson's still that he would be babysitting and was headed back toward camp. As he passed a flowering hibiscus tree, he impulsively plucked one of the bright red flowers.
Reaching the beach, he dropped off the blanket and pillow at the tent, and looked around until he spotted his target: sitting in the shade of her shelter, surrounded by palm fronds, weaving . . . something. Megabyte headed directly towards the blonde head, holding the flower behind his back. When he reached her shelter, but she didn't look up, he grinned cockily, "Hey there."
Claire jumped; evidently she hadn't heard his approach. She turned a bit pink and scolded him, "Damon! Don't you know better than to sneak up on a pregnant woman?"
He frowned in mock consternation. "Oh. I thought the guidelines said *sneak up on a pregnant woman whenever possible.* My bad.
"Ah well," Megabyte crouched down across from her, "I found something growing in the jungle. Maybe this will make up for my faux pas?" Grinning again, he presented the flower with a flourish. "Hibiscus. And I only know that because my mother grew them for years."
OOC: I'm assuming that Megabyte sleeps for a while, so this takes place sometime after Claire's impromptu Japanese lesson with Kenzaki.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[Claire] Return to the Land of the Living (tag MB, open)
Date: 2006-05-04 11:21 pm (UTC)Narrowing her eyes playfully, Claire swiped the pretty flower from Damon's outstretched hand and carefully tucked it behind her right ear. The rest of her hair was tied back in a ponytail, so it should stay in - at least she hoped so.
"Thank you, but I think that I shall have administer a far graver punishment," she intoned solemnly, tapping a finger against her lips to cover the fact that she was desperately trying to think of something appropriate. "Um.. I know - you must wear the dreaded bowl-basket-hat thing!"
Picking up the misproportioned.. well, "thing" really was the best way to describe it.. Claire placed it carefully on Damon's head and gracefully tipped it down on one side. When she started weaving she'd been aiming for one of those conical hats - it seemed like the simplest design, from what Molly and Sue had shown her - but somewhere along the line it had all gone haywire and now resembled little more than a woven splodge with upturned edges.
Sitting back to get a better look, Claire burst out laughing at the sight before snatching it back in a fit of red-faced dismay. "Second thoughts, nothing's bad enough to deserve that!"
"Oh really," Damon deadpanned. At least he hadn't lost his sense of humour.
Claire nodded rapidly, hiding the offensive product back in the tent. The world wasn't ready for that level of incompetence. "Really. Not even Charlie on a bad day.. although he had taken to trailing the new girl Mara, so I could be wrong. We should save it for him."
She fiddled with the flower, deciding to tease Damon in lieu of outright embarrassment.
"So, flowers huh? What's next - chocolates?"
[Megabyte] Return to the Land of the Living (tag Claire, open)
Date: 2006-05-05 12:42 am (UTC)"Chocolates are passe and overrated. Also, I've always been told that flowers combined with chocolate imply that you've done something wrong and will only get you in hot water," Megabyte deadpanned, settling on the ground across from her. "Plus, you know, lack of a chocolate factory anywhere nearby. So, I'm gonna have to forego the chocolates.
"It'll probably have to be a coconut. You know, one you eat instead of wearing. Although I hear coconut meat might be in style during monsoon season."
He held his arm up to ward off blows from viciously swung palm fronds, chuckling.
"That. Wasn't. My. Fault," Claire punctuated each word with a swat, although she was smiling, so he figured that it was a joke well taken.
Megabyte bit his tongue just in time to prevent himself from saying something horribly cliche and out of bounds like 'but you were cute covered in coconut,' and said instead, "All right, you win, no coconut. Papaya?"
[Claire] Return to the Land of the Living (tag MB, open)
Date: 2006-05-05 04:14 pm (UTC)A frisbee flew up then, landing a couple of feet away. It was swiftly followed by Vincent and the new pup, Orrie, then Walt. Claire made a grab for the smaller furball and missed, but she did manage to get hold of the frisbee. Waving it around, ducking in and out of the dogs' reach, Claire started getting right into this game - though she really couldn't be bothered getting up to throw it properly. Then again she was going to be overrun in a minute, sat in this position.
Passing the frisbee over to Damon, she grinned. "Give 'em a run for their money?"
"No fair!" Walt protested. "At least tell me where it's going so I can get a head start!"
Claire just laughed, shuffling backwards so she could reach into the tent for some water. By the time she turned back, the boy and his canine friends were gone in a cloud of sand.
"I don't know where he gets the energy," she commented dryly, noting that Sue was curled up in the shade of a nearby tree, thick book in hand.
Looking into the forest, Claire felt a twinge of worry. "The girls were talking about those caves again, saying we should move there, but it's a long walk and I've never been more than a couple of metres past the treeline. What's it like in there?"
[Megabyte] Return to the Land of the Living (tag Claire, open)
Date: 2006-05-05 04:50 pm (UTC)He paused considering and then stood up. “You know what, it’s really hard to explain.” Holding out his hands to her, as an offer of assistance with standing, he grinned, “C’mon, let’s take a walk. See for yourself? If you've never really been in there, there's no time like the present, right?”
[Claire] Return to the Land of the Living (tag MB, open)
Date: 2006-05-05 10:24 pm (UTC)"Yeah, all right," Claire replied, grabbing both forearms to help pull herself up. "And thank god I've only got a few more weeks as a whale.."
She was a little nervous about being absent from any of her usual posts - ironic, considering that they hadn't been here that long - and made sure to stop by Sue's reading nook to advise the girl where she'd be if anyone needed her. The fact that both Sue and Damon seemed to find this amusing made her realise how weird it was that she'd already settled into a routine of sorts, but it made her feel better. Maybe Clarice and Molly's attempts to convince her that she was useful around the place had sunk in after all.
"So.. any sights to see, fruit to pick, or just a nice wander through the shade?" Claire asked nervously as they passed the treeline, spinning round only to realise that the growth was thick enough to hide the beach already. The temperature was a hell of a lot nicer in here though, she decided happily, and it was nice not to feel heat through her feet as well as everywhere else. "You guys haven't seen any more of those boar recently have you, or -" *gulp* "- polar bears?"
It wasn't like she didn't trust Damon to keep her safe, just.. just!
[Megabyte] A Walk in the Jungle (tag Claire, open)
Date: 2006-05-06 03:32 am (UTC)However, once they were in the jungle, Claire seemed to calm down a bit. That was until she reminded herself of the jungle’s dangers. Megabyte laughed softly and shook his head. He impulsively reached out and put an arm around her shoulders, “Claire, there have been no more boar sightings or polar bears sightings either. It’s perfectly safe, all right? I wouldn’t have suggested it if it wasn’t.” The fact that his arm was around Claire’s shoulder registered with him and he withdrew it, feeling his ears burn significantly.
“I’ve actually been spending a lot of time out here alone the past few days,” Megabyte explained to cover his embarrassment.
“So this where you’ve been hiding,” Claire said. “What’ve you been up to?”
Megabyte matched his pace to Claire’s, “Just a special project for John.” He lowered his voice to a stage whisper, “I was making shovels.”
“You had to hide in the jungle to make shovels?”
“Well, I didn’t *have* to. Hey, watch your step.” Megabyte took Claire gently by the elbow and guided her over a tangle of vines and a fallen tree trunk. “But I was being secretive about it. John didn’t even know I was doing it. I didn’t want anyone to know what I was doing in case I screwed it up.” That much was true, even if it was only part of the truth.
At Claire’s look, he defended, “I’m human. I have my moments of pride and vanity too. Or my moments of wanting to save my pride and not humiliate myself.” He gave her a lopsided grin, “On the positive side, I learned my way around this patch of jungle pretty well and I found a very cool strangler vine.”
He fought the urge to put his arm around her waist and shoved his hands into his pockets instead.
[Claire] A Walk in the Jungle (tag MB, open)
Date: 2006-05-06 06:03 pm (UTC)"That's fair enough, y'know. I don't think I'd've shown anyone that disastrous attempt at a hat if you hadn't come along and tempted me. Same'll go for mark 2, and 3, and 4 - right up till I get good enough to show the world." She ducked under some vines Damon had lifted and looked up for a moment, staring at the canopy. "Maybe I'll move to Byron Bay when we get back, it's a tourist town that pretends it's still full of hippies. I could set myself up with a stall and work from home - no childcare costs that.. way.. Um."
That train of thought brought her to a complete stop, brain frozen mid-thought and feet just as useless. Where the hell had that come from? And why? Strewth, the baby was going to be adopted and that was that. No question, and her subconscious had better get that into its friggin' head, that was for sure.
Claire powered off up the 'path' as soon as she'd stopped kicking herself, keen to get back to normal life and not stupid daydreams that would never work out cos that was just plain daft and useless as shit on a stick.
"Claire?"
His voice and the sound of rustling told her that Damon was following pretty closely.
"It's this way, right?" she called over her shoulder, still walking as quickly as she could. It wasn't that she was ignoring Damon on purpose, there was just this need to get away from that spot. It wasn't rational, but it was the best she could do.
Finally stopping - her legs and ankles were knackered enough to overtake her worries on the give-a-shit scale of priorities - Claire took a deep breath and faced Damon with a tight smile. Find another bloody track to play and stick to it, because no-one likes a misery-guts, she ordered herself.
"Sorry, I just.. like strangler vines." Ok, that was weak. She grinned cheerfully, mentally slamming a door on the daydreams, locking it and throwing away the key. Hah, try coming back from that one!
"Lead on, Macduff!"
"Are you sure you're ok?" he asked carefully.
"Very sure," Claire stated firmly, slipping her arm through his before continuing in a cheeky, sing-song voice. "Are we nearly there yet?"
OOC: I know it's a misquote, but so many people don't that it's a fair bet Claire doesn't :)
[Megabyte] Anywhere but Here (tag Claire, open)
From:[Claire] Anywhere but Here (tag MB, open)
From:[Megabyte] Anywhere but Here (tag Claire, open)
From:[Claire] Anywhere but Here (tag MB, open)
From:[Megabyte] Anywhere but Here (tag Claire, open)
From:[Claire] Anywhere but Here (tag MB, open)
From:[Megabyte] Good Vibrations, Part I (tag Claire, open)
From:[Megabyte] Good Vibrations, Part II (tag Claire, open)
From:[Claire] Out of step (tag MB, open)
From:OOC
From:[Megabyte] Out of step (tag Claire, open)
From:[Claire] Out of step (tag MB, open)
From:[Megabyte] Out of step (tag Claire, open)
From:[Claire] Deflated (tag MB, open)
Date: 2006-05-11 12:55 am (UTC)Damon's words had knocked the stuffing right out of her, deflated her anger despite the fact that deep inside she still wanted to yell and scream and shout at something. He was still in the same position: sat on the ground, eyes shut and looking like he'd rather be anywhere but here - like the game they'd been playing so friendly-like not so long ago. A nice idea, if impossible. Shame he looked so bloody dejected - it made it really hard to tap into that well of frustration, despite what had just happened in that clearing.
She grabbed at the easiest thing to say, something that required very little thinking while the rest of her brain concentrated on finding a gear. "I want to see the manager. I think I - we - got on the wrong bus. Plane. Whatever."
The quip came out dull and half-hearted, but it felt right anyhow. Claire allowed herself a weak smile, than went back to chewing her lip nervously. She wondered whether Ami knew.
"Is this like.. fair dinkum? You're not having me on or anything?"
The shake of his head was all she needed to see.
Huh. "And what, the psychic viagra just.. took over?"
Damon made a negative sound. "Nope, that would have been worse. It was more like being drugged than possessed. I guess the easiest way to describe it is trying to walk in a straight line when you're drunk: possible, but it takes concentration."
Worse. It could have been worse. Claire wasn't daft, she could guess that, it just seemed different - more ominous - when stated out loud. It also sounded like he was trying to make what did happen sound like a minor mishap. Which it was, in comparison. Why couldn't she think straight today?
"So maybe I should say thanks? And sorry?" Claire's tone was defensive, but still quiet. She simply didn't have the energy to put up a decent fight, not any more. "What is it with me and bloody psychics anyway? Am I wearing a neon sign that says 'fair game'?"
She squinted at him then, less concerned than she had been about the likelihood of a repeat.. attack? Nope, she didn't think it was that any more - though the shock was still fresh. A little voice told her to ask for proof of this supposed psychic ability, but she wasn't sure whether that was a safe move with the equally dubious psychic viagra nearby. She wasn't sure she wanted to know for sure either, not after what had happened with Richard Malkin. The last thing Claire needed was more bad karma, but trying to be neutral made figuring out what to say or do next really difficult.
"You're feeling ok now, right?"
"If you can call this ok, yeah. Sure." He didn't sound convinced, but there was a definite hint of sarcasm in Damon's tone.
"Then let's get back to the camp."
This time he looked up, frowning at her. "Really?"
Claire crossed her arms and tried not to meet his eyes too much. It was hard, but she couldn't go back to talking and laughing with him like before, not yet. Maybe not ever, she wasn't sure yet. Fact was, she still liked him well enough - it was trust that was going to be the problem, especially if he was what? Empathic? Even that sounded like an invasion of privacy. At least she'd asked Malkin to do a reading for her, much good that did.
"I don't want to walk back alone if I don't have to. Not entirely alone, anyway. Either way I don't want to stay here, and you're welcome to follow me out."
She looked down at the ground and closed her eyes briefly, then put one foot in front of the other and got back on the path to the beach. One more issue to add to her list.
OOC comments
Date: 2006-05-11 01:12 am (UTC)"Psychic viagra." *snicker* Good thing Bob Dole isn't psychic.
Re: OOC comments
Date: 2006-05-11 01:37 am (UTC)And people wonder why MB and Ami are so adamantly against telling anyone about their abilities? Case in point.
Ah, but what's relationship development without a
metric butt loadwee bit of angst?Re: OOC comments
Date: 2006-05-11 01:20 pm (UTC)Re: OOC comments
Date: 2006-05-11 08:59 pm (UTC)Have peas? :)
Re: OOC comments
Date: 2006-05-12 06:37 pm (UTC);)
Re: OOC comments
Date: 2006-05-13 02:20 am (UTC)[GI Joe: And knowing is half the battle!]
[Megabyte] Deflated (tag Claire, open)
Date: 2006-05-11 01:53 am (UTC)When they were kids, it had been a helluva lot easier. Other kids thought that their abilities were cool and totally rocked. How many times had he had friends who found out start wanting to do Zener card experiments or play dice rolling games? Adults, they didn't see it the same way: Locke, Emerson, Tommy, and George were the exceptions, but they came from different paths where they seemed willing to embrace the strange and unusual. Most people were like Claire - strange and different just didn't fit in their world.
(I stopped trying to be friends with 'normal' people years ago. Why the hell did I have to go and start trying again?)
He really needed to talk to someone who could understand, or would at least listen to him rant without making judgments. But Kevin, Adam and even Peter were out of reach right now, and Ami - well currently she was preoccupied with Scott and he wasn't going to disturb her.
When they reached the treeline, he spoke up, "Claire?"
She looked at him, barely, but she looked. "Yeah?"
"Never mind," Megabyte shook his head. (What is left to say? I told her the truth so she wouldn't hate me for the reason. At least she can be afraid of me for the right reason.) "Look, we're back on the beach, there's the camp, you're safe. I'll see you around."
Turning, he aimed back towards the jungle. He needed to think and he needed to be away from people.
[Claire] Deflated (tag MB, open)
Date: 2006-05-11 01:47 pm (UTC)When they started walking Claire was feeling betrayed, but by the time they got to the beach there was this niggling sense of being the betrayer - one that she'd stubbornly resisted, however persistent it might be. Time and again some rational part of her brain pointed out that in all the time she'd spent with Damon, there was only that single moment where anything had gone wrong. Things may have gone downhill from there, but it wasn't like what had happened in the bloody clearing had continued and for all Claire's worries that this empathy he'd mentioned was an invasion.. well, she'd come out and told him about the plan to give up her baby all by herself, hadn't she? Her biggest secret and he'd not pressured her to say anything, nor pried.
Going along with Clarice's assessment of Damon was too bloody easy, even Molly had tried tiptoeing round that particular issue. Claire'd not had many male friends in her life, but there had to be a reason why she felt more comfortable with him than with the FBI agent - or anyone else here, come to think of it. And she had the cheek to back him into a corner then imply that he was a bad friend.
Bitterly, Claire decided that the words she'd thrown in Damon's face earlier probably weren't that far off. She did owe him thanks and an apology, but naturally she was too bloody stubborn to realise it while he was still there - and now that he'd buggered off back into the jungle.
"Dropkick," she whispered to the trees.
Hypocrite, her mind muttered back.
So what now? Chances were that she'd wasted the best opportunity she had to at least try to make things right. Claire knew how cold her feet got over such things, but she wasn't about to run into the jungle.. not even when he'd kindly proven to her that it wasn't all dark and dangerous, dodgy clearings aside. Heh. How typical is that? Would he even be willing to talk to her when he came out? That "see you around comment" sounded about as noncommittal as "don't call me, I'll call you", not that she could blame him. That meant nervous festering, second-guessing and the risk of becoming too proud to admit her mistakes - maybe that's what had gone so wrong between him and Clarice after the night of the attack, and look how well all that was going now.
Claire made her mind up and headed back to her shared tent, pulling out her journal and a pen under Rose's watchful eye.
"What's got you so riled up, missy?"
She smiled weakly. "I messed up."
The elderly woman smiled from her bed, where she seemed to be taking a late afternoon nap. "So this is cleaning up?"
"I hope so," Claire replied quietly, scribbling her little note in record time. "Gotta go!"
[Harry] Opportunity knocks (no tag)
Date: 2006-05-11 02:17 pm (UTC)Harry meandered up to the tent Charlie insisted on sharing with those suck-ups he'd hooked up with on the first day, frowning when he saw Claire ducking out from under the flap. Was there someone in there? That Damon guy, maybe? If so he could wait, but he hadn't heard anyone say goodbye and to be frank it didn't matter either way.
He entered the tent and looked around warily. No-one was home. Just as well, and it didn't take him long to find what he was after: Charlie's precious music paper with all those stupid songs he wouldn't shut up about. Shit, as far as Harry was concerned, and as such it was all relegated to toilet paper as of now. He was sick and fuckin' tired of using leaves.
Harry was about to leave when he caught sight of a note on one of the other beds - Damon's, he guessed, remembering that Claire'd been in here too. Ethan seemed to think that Charlie sharing with these sycophants was a good idea, but none of them seemed to like him if the gap between all their beds was anything to go by. Either way it meant that he didn't have to sleep anywhere near the little fuckwit, so it wasn't all bad.
The note was just begging to be read, so he cheerfully acquiesced. It was pithy disappointment, unfortunately: "Sorry. Thank you." Christ, this place was turning into a fucking high school already.. but could this apparent evidence of a split between two irritating people close to that inner circle be turned to his advantage?
Why yes, of course, he mocked them silently. Don't mind if I do.
Smirking, Harry stuffed the note in his pocket next to the roll of sheet music and left the tent with a new itch to scratch. Malingering had that effect more and more, now that he had an outlet. Speaking of whom, time to find Lucy.
OOC comment
Date: 2006-05-11 02:47 pm (UTC)Re: OOC comment
Date: 2006-05-11 02:56 pm (UTC)Re: OOC comment
From:[Megabyte] Creating Distractions (open tag)
Date: 2006-05-12 02:13 am (UTC)(Huh.) In a way *this* actually made sense. The fuselage was a good distance away from camp while being close enough to still sense activity and see the camp. It also shielded him and allowed him to move around in privacy if he so desired. Right now, he desired.
He supposed that the conversation with Claire *could have* gone better, but then again, it could have gone a lot worse. She didn't exactly tell him to take the longest walk off of the shortest pier that he could find, but she didn't tell him *not to* either. The oppressing silence that ensued during their walk back hadn't exactly been reassuring, but he'd all but fled before they could say anything once reaching the beach. (Because that's what you're particularly good at – running away and hiding, except usually it's teleporting away.) Hiding was easy when you had the whole world, or even a huge city; avoiding Claire on the beach was going to be practically impossible.
(And I don't want to avoid her.) That was the crux of it. Given some space and some time, he realized that he wanted to work things out with Claire, someway, somehow, if it were even possible. For the first time in a long time, he really wanted someone to see that he wasn't the sum of his abilities; that was if Claire would ever talk to him again.
(Nothing to do for it now,) Megabyte decided, as he randomly poked around the fuselage. Fortunately, poking about in this way, in a precarious and dangerous place, kept his head clear and stopped him from dwelling on the Claire Situation. Attention pulled in a different direction, Megabyte began to ponder what remained of the fuselage. It had yet to be completely gutted: there were seats that could be used for bedding and the like, and panels that could be ripped down for walls. (Hell, the entire inside of this thing could be used for shelter. Maybe the infirmary if the bit of plane could be hauled away from the beach.
His brain now engaged, the Claire situation fell off the radar. Megabyte moved around the fuselage like a man with a mission, mapping out uses for the shell of the plane, for the seats, for panels, for carpeting, anything that could be used to support a six month (or longer) stay on the island. Hands became a secondary tool for sorting through debris; telekinetics was easier when it came to moving some of the heavier items that weren't locked down or weren't attached very firmly.
"Wow, now that's what I call some serious shit."
The total unexpectedness of the voice behind him caused Megabyte to whirl around, eyes going wide. He wasn't certain what he expected, but it was not the sultry brunette parked in the archway, one long, tanned leg propped up in the doorway. His eyes literally crawled their way up from her legs, spilling out of a pair of cut off denim shorts, her bare abdomen and the cut-off t-shirt that didn't do a whole lot to disguise her breasts, finally drawing up to look her in the eyes. Megabyte then felt himself blush in chagrin, realizing that ogling a woman *was not* a proper way of greeting – even if she had snuck up on him and witnessed his impromptu demonstration of telekinesis.
She however, didn't seem to care that he'd just given her a very thorough once-over. In fact her eyes twinkled with amusement, and she gave him a grin, "Guess you weren't expectin' company, hey Red?"
[Faith] Creating Distractions (tag MB)
Date: 2006-05-12 02:14 am (UTC)But there was a guy with red hair, rooting diligently around. He was so caught up in whatever he was doing, that he hadn't even heard her approach. Faith watched him for a bit, sizing him up in the same way she had every other male on the beach. He wasn't drop dead, rip off your panties and throw them at him gorgeous like Sayid or even that hottie that George had, but he was kinda cute in that geeky, boy-next-door way.
(And holy shit! He's not using his hands!)
Faith blinked and gasped – and man, it took a lot to get that kind of reaction from her – but still Red didn't hear or notice her. After schooling her face into a non-jaw-dropping-totally-fucking-wowed expression, she propped her leg up against the doorway of the plane and called, "Wow, now that's what I call some serious shit."
Red turned around with a complete and total deer-in-the-headlights look, which only lasted long enough for him to take a minute and check her out totally and completely. Which was fine by Faith, at least it told her which team he played for.
Faith grinned at him, "Guess you weren't expectin' company, hey Red?"
"Um. No. Not exactly."
Sliding her foot to the ground, Faith ventured further into the fuselage. "I was kinda expectin' it to be empty too. Figured no one would want to be up in this place, you know? So, were you just doin' that with magic or something or are you some kinda modern day Uri Gellar?"
He looked at her and Faith recognized the signs of incoming bullshit. She shook her head and laughed, "What? Don't even try and tell me you weren't doing anything. I watched you for a good five minutes, guy. And let me tell you, I have never seen shit like that unless it involved magic – or demons – and I'm not gettin' a demon vibe off of you, so what is it? Are you like telekinetic or something? 'Cause really, considering this whole fucked up island, it wouldn't surprise me."
Red shrugged, evidently coming to the conclusion that there was no reason to argue with her about it. "Yeah. That's me. The telekinetic freak."
"Freak? You wanna talk freaks, we'll talk freaks, but from where I'm lookin' at things, that's like fuckin' awesome."
"Yeah, well, then you're in the minority."
[Megabyte] Creating Distractions (tag Faith)
Date: 2006-05-12 02:17 am (UTC)She surprised him by sneaking up on him. She surprised him by not freaked out by his demonstration of telekinetics. And she was continuing to surprise him by not going anywhere.
Megabyte glanced back over his shoulder at her as he wiggled one of the seats that was loose in its moorings. Even though she'd seen the telekinetic display, he was a bit uncomfortable going back to that while she was watching. "Did you want something? Or do you always sneak up on people while they're busy?"
"People in the fuselage part of crashed planes, yeah," she said with a shrug that raised her tee shirt just enough to tease at the possibility of seeing the underside of her bra. She stepped towards him, somehow managing to be both graceful and sensual, as she moved over bits of debris. "Actually, Red, I think I kinda probably want the same thing you want."
"A backache?" Megabyte volunteered deadpan.
"Sense of humor. I like that," her smile widened and she circled around him, her body brushing close enough that he could feel the heat from her skin and smell the ocean salt that clung to her. She planted herself on the other side of the seat and gave it a good tug, ripping it free. "Salvage. From the plane. And yeah, not as puny as I look."
He was gaping at her. He knew that he was gaping at her and yet he couldn't stop. Megabyte raked his eyes over her again, this time in a purely scientific fashion as he took in her muscle mass – or lack thereof. She was athletic yes, and certainly toned and in – great – shape, but she didn't have the look of a body builder.
"I can see that," Megabyte finally managed. "So, what exactly are you looking for? Some nice seats or seat cushions? A few leftover blankets for shelter?"
"Actually, I was lookin' for something to catch water in. You know, make a trough. Maybe between the two of us we can figure somethin' out. But hey, now that you mentioned it, having something soft to sleep on, I'm all over that."
Megabyte gripped the now free seat by the arms, and looked at her speculatively. "Are you gonna spare my ego and let me carry it or should I let you do the honors?"
Hottie Brunette grinned wickedly and plopped into the nearest seat, crossing one long leg over the other. She stretched her arms over head, again creating the nice teasing effect with her t-shirt, and flexed her hands, her voice dropping a few octaves. "Go for it, Red. I like watchin' a man work up a sweat."
The rush of heat that spread from his toes to the roots of his hair had absolutely nothing to do with the heat inside the fuselage and everything to do with how the woman oozed sex and knew it. With a grunt, Megabyte grabbed the seat and began lugging it towards the open entry way of the fuselage.
"By the way," he tossed back over his shoulder, "it's Damon. My name."
"Faith," she called out. "You know, 'cause you always gotta have faith."
Her low, throaty laughter followed him as he tripped out of the plane.
[Faith] Being a Distraction (tag MB)
Date: 2006-05-12 02:20 am (UTC)(He's freakin' telekinetic. He'd better take it in stride,) Faith thought. That thought made her think about the other people she'd encountered so far: too many psychics to count, Wolfman, a grim reaper, a time traveling alien, a half-alien woman from the future who knew how to dress. Not to mention that smoke thing and the Others. (Yeah, telekinetic not so weird around here.)
She hefted the seat onto her shoulders, and called, "Coming out!"
Her warning was a good thing, because right as she called, she saw a flash of red hair before it disappeared. Faith's descent with the chair was much more graceful than Damon's, she was sure, but then again, he wasn't messing with her.
"You always this friendly, or did I just catch you on a good day?"
Damon looked at her, and under the waning afternoon sunlight Faith surmised that he was most definitely a natural red head. The peeling sunburn and smattering of freckles down his bare arms attested to that. Seriously blue eyes blinked at her and he gave her a tight smile. "You caught me on a really spectacularly bad day. Not that you can call any day being stranded on a desert island waiting for rescue as a good day. This one was just far crappier than most."
Faith knew men well enough to know that tone, body language and to read between the lines on those words. (Jesus! Is every guy on this beach taken?) "Girlfriend's pissed at ya, huh?"
"I don't have a girlfriend," Damon laughed and shook his head. "Not even sure about the friend part either right now." He muttered the last a bit as he disappeared back into the fuselage, and Faith was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to have heard it. She almost hadn't because she'd been more focused on the 'don't have a girlfriend' statement.
Following him back inside, Faith dropped bonelessly into the seat he was wiggling free, earning a glare which she ignored completely. "You know, before you take out your frustration on this tin can and rip all these seats free, you might wanna give a thought as to how you plan on gettin' them all back over to the camp."
"What? Is the pack mule gone already?" He wiggled the seat a bit and looked down at her. "You're not gonna move, are you?"
"I'm takin' a break." Faith motioned to the seat beside her, "C'mon try it. Take a load off. Plane's already dead. It'll keep."
Damon hesitated, his brow furrowing in that far too familiar look of broodiness. The guy definitely wanted to wallow in whatever it was that had caused his bad day. Faith waited and then grinned when he slid past her and sat down in the seat.
"Now, see, how does that feel?"
"Like I'm being useless."
"You know, I'm friends with this guy who has a lot of bad days. And when he does, he carries it around with him for weeks. Months. Years sometimes. But he's got this whole broody-sexy-leather-coat thing going for him. And he does not have miles of untainted beach to bask on either." (Not that he could.) "Or a pure blue ocean to swim in."
"I'm not brooding."
"Right. I got that. Never said you were."
"I don't even know you. And you sure as hell don't know me."
"I know that you're in a bad mood. I know that you're telekinetic. And I know that you don't get a lot of people who think that you got a way cool gift goin' on there. I also know that from that sunburn and those freckles, you're a natural red head." Faith leaned her head back against the seat, and gave him a lascivious grin. "But you know, I'd always be willing to do a bit more research."
Faith didn't know why she was messing with the guy, aside from the fact that it was fun and that despite his bad mood, his deadpan sarcastic comebacks showed that he could at least hold his own with her.
[Megabyte] Being a Distraction (tag Faith)
Date: 2006-05-12 03:23 am (UTC)Which is probably why he was able to speak and not just gape in surprise, "Are you coming onto me? Or is this how you talk to all men that you meet on desert islands?"
Faith's grin grew. "Yeah." She lifted her arms over her head, fastening her hands around the back of the head rest, "Well, that and you know, I'm just gettin' to know my neighbors."
"Neighbors?" Megabyte forced his eyes to stay focused on her face and not drop down to her cleavage.
"You're on the beach, I'm on the beach, we're both kinda stuck on the beach until the rescue boats show so … neighbors."
Before he lost the battle of eye contact, he looked away. "You have a really odd way of getting to know your neighbors."
"It's not bothering you that much."
"How do you know that?"
"You haven't told me to fuck off yet."
"Would you?" Megabyte queried.
"There's only one way to find out."
Megabyte sighed, but said nothing. Ironically enough, he was enjoying the company of the very brash, outspoken siren. She was actually a better distraction than trying to piece and parcel out the fuselage mentally.
Faith chuckled beside him, a low throaty chuckle that slid over his skin like soft fingers. His reaction to that made him shift a bit uncomfortably in his seat, as his body stirred a bit to remind him that it hadn't been so long ago that he'd been dosed with the field of psychic sexual energy.
If Faith noticed his reaction, she didn't comment on it. "That's what I thought. Face it, guy, you don't really want to be out here brooding all by yourself. I showed up, gave you somebody to talk to and you're happy now. Well, less pissy anyway."
"I wasn't pissy," Megabyte snapped, then groaned when he realized he'd underscored her point.
"Well, you didn't exactly greet me with a big cheery hello there, Red."
"You snuck up on me!" Megabyte reminded her.
"I stood there for five minutes. Not my fault you were oblivious."
Megabyte shook his head and slumped back in the seat. "Is this how you always get to know people?"
"Nah, most people aren't as pissy as you are."
He glared at her, she grinned. Something told him to give up while he was ahead – although Megabyte wasn't even sure he was ahead anymore.
"So," Faith drawled, "Wanna talk about your terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day?"
Megabyte raised his eye brows and stared at her. "No. Not really."
"Cool. Wanna help me find a trough?"
"Water tank for the bathroom. Not the one attached to the toilet. The one that feeds the sinks. Probably will have to tear through the walls and floor to get to it. Bathroom sink might work, but it's a bit small."
"Damn," Faith let out a whistle. "You just figure that out?"
"No, I've actually had time to think about it since you first mentioned it."
"You fucking rock."
"Great. A fan club."
"Just wait til I start throwing my panties at you." Faith grinned, bouncing – quite literally- to her feet. She grabbed his arm and began tugging him to his feet. "C'mon, we got us a plane to rip apart."
Megabyte allowed himself to be hauled to his feet, his brain still stuck on the throwing panties comment. He completely didn't get Faith: one minute she was coming onto him, the next she was all about salvaging the plane.
He didn't get her at all, but she was far less complicated than most women he knew.
"Keep your panties," he quipped, despite his red face and the images his overactive imagination called up, "I look terrible in women's underwear."
[Faith] Serious Work (tag Megabyte)
Date: 2006-05-12 05:15 pm (UTC)Faith went to work with gusto, after finding something hard enough to punch through with, enjoying the physical release. After a while, even Damon got into and in-between their attacks on the plane bathroom, they made small talk. Damon was a pretty cool guy, once you got past the surliness which Faith was sure was a result of whatever had put him into a bad mood for the day. She'd learned her lesson about prying though, so this time she kept her nose out of it.
After a while, Damon called a halt to their acts of mass destruction, and inspected the large chasms they'd managed to rent into the plane. He stuck his head in and cursed a bit about not having a flashlight, then told her that the water holder wasn't there, they'd have to follow the piping for a bit.
"But if you don't mind, I'm gonna take a break," Damon told her.
Faith agreed that a break was a good idea, even though she wasn't nearly as tired as Damon, and they exited the plane. Now, they sat on the beach outside the fuselage, staring out at the vastness of the Pacific Ocean. Well, Faith sat; Damon sprawled out on his stomach on one of the last blankets they'd found shoved between seats, his wet t-shirt draped across his head.
While Faith didn't object to the view, the moment his shirt came off she had to reassess him again. He wasn't a rippling muscle god, but he definitely had some definition. There were also more freckles and a clear indication that although he did seem to tan, he probably hadn't been shirtless since crashing on the island. Her attention kept being drawn back to the tattoo located just inside his shoulder blades – three Chinese characters; he didn't seem like the tattoo sort, which is what piqued her curiosity, but she didn't ask about it – yet.
"Does that make you tired?" Faith asked. "Movin' and doin' stuff with your brain, I mean."
"A little," Damon's response was muffled. The shaking of his shoulders belied his laughter. "A lot."
Faith chuckled too. "So, why do it, then? You got a masochistic streak or something?"
"Some would say that."
"What do you say?"
"I say that I just don't know when to stop."
"Depending on what you're doing, that's not always a bad thing," Faith said with a slightly suggestive lilt to her voice.
Damon opened one eye, peeking at her from beneath the t-shirt. "Makes you tired though."
Faith snorted, "Well, yeah. Wouldn't be any fun if it didn't."
OOC giggles
From:Re: OOC giggles
From:[Megabyte] Taking a Break (tag Faith)
From:[Faith] Placing the Bet (tag Megabyte)
From:[Megabyte] Raising the Stakes (tag Faith)
From:[Faith] I'll See You and Raise You (tag Megabyte)
From:[Megabyte] I'll See You and Raise You (tag Faith)
From:[Faith] I'll See You and Raise You (tag Megabyte)
From:[Megabyte] Freud and His Slips (tag Faith)
From:Re: [Megabyte] Freud and His Slips (tag Faith)
From:[Megabyte] Freud and His Slips, Part II (tag Faith)
From:[Faith] Nosing About (tag Megabyte)
From:[Megabyte] Finding Normal (tag Faith)
From:[Faith] Unlikely Matched (tag Megabyte)
From:[Megabyte] Back to the Beach (no tag)
From: