stefanie_bean: (Hurley and Claire)
[personal profile] stefanie_bean
Chapter 45: Mai Tais and Cannonballs
Pairings: Hurley/Claire, Kate/Sawyer
Characters: Hugo "Hurley" Reyes, Benjamin Linus, Desmond Hume, Claire Littleton, Kate Austen, James "Sawyer" Ford, Rose Nadler, Bernard Nadler, Carole Littleton, Aaron Littleton, Background & Cameo Characters, Original Non-Human Characters
Rating: M
Length: 4873 words
Status: Complete
Notes: Fantasy and supernatural elements. Think American Gods on the Island.

Summary: Hurley is now Protector of the Island, while Claire, Kate, and Sawyer head back to our world. But when it comes to love, the Island has ways to get you where you need to be.


Chapter 45: Mai Tais and Cannonballs

May Day had come and gone without Hugo's arrival. On this May 2 eve, Kate floated on an inflated recliner in the middle of the Reyes's pool, watching Claire worry, unable to offer any help beyond hugs and sympathetic smiles. Light evening breezes lifted a few goose-bumps on Kate's arms and legs, but the fading sun kept her comfortably warm. She stretched her arms out on the plastic float, eyes closed, head leaned back. Water lapped against the pool-side, while air rustled through the jungle of plants which filled the patio.

Deep in the pit of her body, light flutters poked right and left. Somebody else was taking a swim, flipping up and down like a tiny fish.

She laid her hands over where her bikini bottom wedged under her belly, and breathed in deeply, letting her stomach expand in and out. She'd just read in one of Carmen's women's magazines about how important it was to reduce stress during pregnancy. Inside, the child floated, then trembled, then floated again.

Oblivious, but happy. Secure and protected.

As Kate took a few more breaths, she fought down the anxiety which ambushed her whenever it got the chance. From across the pool, Sawyer's and Desmond's voices drifted over to her, just far enough away that she couldn't make out all the words. Sawyer was telling a story, though, and every so often Desmond gave a low chuckle.

Desmond had been in Los Angeles for the past two weeks. From the instant Penny had rung them up with a surprise phone call, Kate had felt the same mounting excitement you get when you approach the top of the roller coaster, the one your boyfriend has talked you into going on, even though you told him that they scared you to death. But instead of tipping over the top and catapulting to the bottom at breakneck speed, this roller coaster grew slower the closer it got.

The edge was coming, but it was sure taking its sweet time.

After the initial rush of tears and hugs, after Aaron had met Charlie and the two of them squealed practically nonstop whenever they were together, the sense of the approaching cliff had never left Kate.

Penny was just as Kate had remembered from the Searcher: always interested in everything you said, leaning forward with that small half-smile, coolly reserved and impeccably polite. How Penny and her family had managed as Carmen and David's house guests for those weeks was beyond Kate.

Over on the kitchen side of the patio, Carmen and David squabbled as he arranged firewood in a large pizza oven. Carmen complained that if he didn't get it right, that thing was likely to blow up on him. What was wrong with the regular gas oven for making a pizza, anyway?

David just laughed and continued to poke away at the fire. “It'll be a big surprise for Hugo. He loves making pizza.”

Carole had invited the Humes to stay in the Topanga Canyon house, but they'd declined. The Reyeses were closer to the Santa Monica pier, where their new cruising yacht, Our Mutual Friend II, rested in her slip. Every day Desmond and Penny drove from the Reyes house down to the waterfront, where Desmond supervised the nautical contracting crew busy at work making her sea-worthy.

Claire and Penny emerged from the kitchen with frosted pitchers and glasses. Charlie and Aaron darted around, more like puppies than two excited little boys. Kate slipped from her float into the water, and with a few swift strokes reached the pool-side.

“What you got there, Missy Claire?” Sawyer said.

“Mai Tais, virgin and otherwise.”

“How about some plain Demerara without all the fruity goodness?” said Desmond.

Claire gave a swift nod towards the house. “In the kitchen, on the counter.”

Kate beached herself as neatly as a seal, then took a cocktail glass from Claire.

Claire smiled, even though her lip trembled. “Two virgins on the rocks.”

Sawyer and Desmond chuckled. At first Penny darted stiff glances at them, then broke down into her own small laugh. “I'll take a virgin, too.”

“No!” Claire said. “Really?”

Kate didn't even have to hear Penny's answer, because Desmond's broad grin said it all.

Penny gave Claire's middle a close look. “I might ask the same of you.”

A tense second ticked by before Claire said, “Somebody's got to play lifeguard to these children, right?” Over on the other side of the pool, Carmen had left David to his own devices and was now fastening Charlie and Aaron into their life vests. It was ridiculous, really, because both boys swam like fish, but Carmen insisted.

Her house, her rules, Kate thought. At home Aaron dives to the bottom all the time. Home? Who was she kidding? Since they had come to live with the Reyeses in this past week, the Topanga house seemed like a hotel you had once stayed in, but which soon blurred together with all the others.

That would be just like Sawyer, to open his mouth. It was clear that Claire wanted to tell Hugo before anyone else, so Kate slid to Sawyer's side and poured him a Mai Tai. “Here you go, unless you want Demerara on the rocks.”

Sawyer took the glass with a grin. I guess you decided for me, sweetheart.”

Did Penny just wink at me? Yes, she had.

In her smooth accents, Penny pointed to the Mai Tai pitcher and said to Kate, “It goes so much easier that way, when we decide. Who's going to drink all this, I wonder?”

Kate laughed. “I don't know. David has a beer already.”

“Perhaps Hugo can make a dent in it when he arrives,” Penny said.

Claire took a non-alcoholic sip. “Hurley doesn't drink.”

“I guess it's up to Carole and Carmen, then,” Kate remarked.

“Oh, good,” Claire said. “We can watch the grand-mums get drunk.”

Penny gave a confused glance over to Carole, who'd joined Carmen in boy-wrangling. “Grand-mums?”

During Kate's Island time-skipping adventures, she had met Charles Widmore: first as a youth, as a man in his forties, and finally on Hydra Island as a septuagenarian. Penny's tone carried the same sharp edge as her father's.

Claire blushed a deep rose-pink. “Oh bother, that just slipped out. I was saving it for Hurley. And Carmen.”

All at once Penny's stiffness melted, as she put her arms around Claire and Kate both. “So we're all in the same boat.”

Claire giggled. “It's like it's contagious.”

“When are you due, Penny?” Kate asked.

“October 29. What about you, Claire?”

“Middle of December. And Kate's due in September,” Claire replied. “I just know that they'll all play together.”

A sick fear washed over Kate at the thought of her baby being born in prison. Even at its dizzying height, the roller coaster advanced another couple of feet through stagnant air toward its summit.

“Kate, are you all right?” Penny said, steering her to a chair beneath an umbrella-covered table. “You look a bit peaked.”

As Claire and Penny clustered around her, Kate shook her head, not wanting to speak at first. Finally she said, “It's just that I'm worried.”

Desmond strode over, carrying a glass of dark rum garnished with lime, Sawyer at heel. “Worried about what, sweetheart?”

“Today's visit with Dan Norton, for one thing.”

“I was wondering how that went,” Claire said. “You didn't mention anything.”

“It's not what's happening,” Kate began. “It's what's not happening. Every time I go to the store, I expect to not come back. But they just sit there, watching. Then, when we got back from Norton's office, there were two of them. Two cars this time.”

“We almost don't notice them anymore,” Penny remarked. “Your solicitor had no more suggestions as to who they might be?”

Kate shook her head, but Desmond broke in. “M.I., I'd say.”

“M what?” Sawyer asked.

“Military intelligence.”

“Oh, God,” said Kate. Every science fiction movie she'd ever seen leaped into her imagination. They probably had scanning devices aimed at the house, maybe even listening ones. A few days ago she and Claire had driven past Star of the Sea parish, where two black SUVs squatted in the parking lot. She had spun a donut and peeled out of there, terrified that they'd follow, but no one out of place had appeared in her rear view mirror.

Claire had remarked that if they were really good at following people, she and Kate wouldn't even have noticed them.

Desmond drained the first half of his drink in a long swallow. “You want to know what I think?”

“Shoot,” Sawyer said.

“Kate, you heard the story. Remember how Pen knew to aim the Searcher for the Island? When the Swan Hatch imploded, the physicists detected it.”

“Kind of like a seismograph for an earthquake, right?” Claire said. “You can find the, what's it called?”

“The epicenter,” Desmond answered.

“It lit up the instruments like a lightning flash,” Penny added. “They calculated the coordinates within the hour.”

Desmond finished his drink and poured himself another. “Same principle, love. The church is where Hurley comes and goes. Hurley most likely makes a blip like the implosion, only not such a big one.”

“You'd be surprised,” Sawyer said with a wry tone.

“James,” Kate said, even as she melted a little at his rascal's grin.

“Missy Claire here knows what I'm talkin' about.”

Kate rolled her eyes, hoping Claire would back her up. Instead, Claire chuckled for the first time in what felt like days.

The boys dashed towards the pool-side as Carmen yelled, “Walk!” Too late, though, and into the air they leaped as Aaron yelled, “Cannonball!” Charlie followed close behind, and the two of them hit the water together. The spray reached Kate and everyone else seated around the table, as the boys bobbed to the surface like small orange corks.

“Mummy!” Charlie called out to Penny. “Why does the water stink?”

Penny rolled her eyes, but not so Charlie could see her. “Remember what Mummy said, dear? That's the chlorine.”

Charlie said to Aaron in a solemn voice, “The ocean doesn't have chlorine.”

“What's it have?” Aaron asked.

Charlie looked at his parents as if unsure, then answered, “Salt. Lots of salt.”


* * * * * * * *


As the sky darkened to violet, a thin sickle of a moon rose. David Reyes's pizza went unbaked, so Kate raided the refrigerator for cold chicken. Now that she wasn't sick anymore, hunger burned inside her like a flame: for eggs, cheese, yogurt, but especially meat.

Claire poured the almost-full pitcher of alcoholic Mai Tais down the sink. She took a drumstick for herself, then set it uneaten on the kitchen counter.

Kate pulled strips of meat off of a chicken thigh. “Stomach topsy-turvey?” She tried to keep her voice low, so that Carmen wouldn't overhear. “Sometimes it can happen at night, too.”

Claire shook her head, her face pale under the kitchen lights. “Just worried. It's been a whole day.”

Carmen wrapped the pizza in foil and said to no one in particular, “May Day, at sunset. That's what he told us last time.”

“Maybe something came up,” Claire said in a shaky voice. “Or maybe he drove up to Topanga, but we weren't there.”

Carmen shook her head. “I remember him saying that he was coming by here first.”

“You know how the Island can go,” Kate said with a confidence she didn't feel. At Claire's stricken expression, she wished she hadn't spoken at all. “I'm sure Hurley's fine, Claire.”

Claire gave a weak smile. “I'm going to settle the boys for the night.” Desmond had set up a dome tent for the boys in the maid's room next to his and Penny's bedroom. Charlie and Aaron had filled the tent with toys, flashlights, and sleeping bags.

Every night's an adventure, Kate said to herself as she tossed the picked-off bones into the trash and wiped the counters.

Instead of going to her own room, though, she headed for the path which circled around the back of the house. Brushing aside ferns and dangling philodendrons, she followed the flagstone walkway to the cabana where Sawyer had set up camp.

He stretched out in a deck chair, writing, his bare chest gleaming a little from sweat and humidity. Other than his IBM Selectric typewriter and a few clothes, he'd brought nothing from the Topanga Canyon house. This time he wasn't tapping away, but instead scrawled across pale stationery with a fountain pen. Kate hung back, watching through the leafy screen, until he capped his pen and glanced up.

“You don't need to spy on me, Freckles.”

She emerged into the golden porch-light. “You writing an epilogue?”

He gave a sigh as he laid the paper aside. “It's a letter.”

“Better than the last one you carried around with you, I hope.”

“You want to snatch it and read it, Smarty-pants?”

Taken aback, she pulled up a chair. “Looks personal.”

“Yeah.”

Night-birds chirped from high in the palm trees, and a light wind rippled the pool surface. Through the foliage, Kate watched Claire come out of the kitchen to sit by the pool, followed by Desmond and David. They didn't sit, though. From where Kate sat, she could faintly hear David's calm-voiced explanation to Claire. They were going to drive up to Star of the Sea parish. Just to have a look around, you understand. She could phone them if Hugo showed up in the meantime. They'd be back in ninety minutes at the latest.

Sawyer's voice was pitched so low it might have been a growl. “Nobody there anymore, from what old Desmondo said earlier. Miz Hawking's up and gone for good, and not comin' back.”

“They have to try,” Kate whispered back. “Claire's frantic, even though she looks calm.”

“Well, Hugo's a big boy. Hey, don't give me that look there. What I mean is, he can take care of himself.” Sawyer reached over for a box big enough to hold a ream of paper. “You never even asked to read my manuscript.”

“I figured you'd share it when you were ready.”

“When Deirdre in the office handed it to that cute li'l intern to make copies, all of a sudden it felt real.” He smoothed the typewritten original with his hand. “Weird, too, signing all those papers giving her negotiating rights.”

“She'll do far better at getting it into print than you or I. She knows agents, people in the business—“

He chuckled. “She said I had a writer-ly name. James Ford.”

“That you do.” Kate took the box and leafed through the first few pages. “Hm, short dedication.” Then she paused, not trusting herself to speak. Something sharp as a chicken bone caught in her throat.

In the middle of the stark white page, four black words stood out like an indictment. “To Clem. I'm sorry.”

She read through the first few pages, caught up at once in the stink of an un-air-conditioned Florida prison, full of hot metal and male sweat. The clang of a door made her jump, because it brought back all too clearly the slam of the Sydney holding cell, as Ed Mars arranged for her flight back to the United States.

It was too much. She rested the manuscript box on her lap. “Not tonight, Sawyer. It's too...”

“Too close to home. I know.” He took Big House from her hands and set it down on the rattan side table.

Across the pool, Carole had switched the lights out and come out to join Claire. She took some wood from the pizza oven and started a fire in a chiminea shaped like a pot-bellied man, with the opening in his belly. Carole handed Claire an afghan, then wrapped up in her own as they sat by the pool-side fire.

“Guess the Beach Boys lied,” Sawyer remarked. “It does rain in California. Or will by morning.”

Dark clouds blotted out what little moon there was. Kate clutched her sleeveless arms and shivered a little, while Sawyer watched her with silent eyes full of night-colored warmth. The look went through her like a knife through soft butter, so that when said, “Wanna come inside for a spell?” she already knew the answer.

She switched off the porch light and followed him in. The one-room cabana contained nothing but a sink, shower, and a twin bed.

“I could haul in the chairs,” he offered.

Instead of answering, she crawled into bed, the stucco wall cool and rough against her back. Wind high in the palms drowned out both Carole and Claire's murmurs, as well as the light rumble of traffic from Santa Monica Boulevard. Pool water slapped against the tile sides, and for a second Kate was back in Sawyer's shelter on the beach, where the ironwood trees rustled and the surf noisily kissed the shore.

He slid into bed beside her and drew her into a hug, his bare arms roped with smooth muscle. She ran her hand down his flat chest and rippled stomach, drawing in a long breath. He must have taken that as encouragement as he leaned over to kiss her. She could taste the rum on his breath as the kiss grew wider, wetter, more open, until her own kiss traveled across his stubbled cheek and down his neck.

They hadn't slept together since that no-tell motel outside the KC airport, and he hadn't asked. Now Kate mounted the carnival ride of her life, closer than ever to the summit, and once you catapulted over the top of the roller coaster, that's when the breath got pulled out of you in long jagged bursts as everything solid gave way beneath you and you were finally floating, free. Until you hit the bottom.

Best not to think about that right now.

He undid her sarong but hesitated at her bikini bottom until she whispered, “Go on.” Then Sawyer's hands took on a life of their own as they roamed over all her skin, warming and rousing her. Even though his wood-chopping days were long behind him and his palms were smooth, the rugged bones beneath remained.

Hot and anxious for him to push himself inside her, she pulled him closer. Instead, he seized her hips and scooted underneath. “Climb on up, cowgirl.”

So she did, as he bucked beneath her, hands on her breasts, the edge approaching, the sense of inevitability pushing them closer to the void of an unknown future. Whatever was bound to happen, nothing could stop it, and over they both went. Into each other they fell, silent as wheels on steel rails, because the cabana windows were nothing but open screens, and the rain-heavy night had fallen still. Through gritted silent teeth Kate rode all the way down.

When she slipped off of him, still in free-fall, she caught his eye. “What was in the letter, Sawyer?”

“All right, Delilah. You unmanned me, now you want my secrets.” The trace of a laugh in his voice turned serious. “It's to Clementine, once she's eighteen. Tells her pretty much what she needs to know about me, includin' the book. If it ever makes it.”

Kate stared at the paneled ceiling while shadows fell on her one by one. “This is because Cassidy's getting married, isn't it? To that accountant at the casino where she works.”

“He's adopting Clementine, Kate. And Cass is gonna be momma to his little girl. I'm not standin' in the way of it, 'cause Cass deserves some happiness after the shit-storm I brewed for her. When Clementine's old enough, though, I just want her to—“

“To understand.”

He grunted in agreement, then settled himself against her in the narrow bed, his flesh cool instead of roused and warm.

It must be the hormones that made her want to just melt into him, pull him down on her breast, fall with him free as a bird and not think of the ground approaching at thirty-two feet per second squared.

“You still want to read it?” he said, almost asleep.

“No,” she said as she pulled a sheet over both of them. “But something tells me you want to get that letter to Dan Norton as soon as possible.”


* * * * * * * *


From her pool-side seat, Claire watched the cabana porch light wink off. A few disappointed moths scattered into the gloom. The chiminea's rosy belly fire took away some of the night's chill, but Claire still clutched her fleece blanket like a child locked in a cold, lonely room who has no other comfort.

Her mother stood up from her own pool chair. “Don't you want to come inside? No use getting soaked.”

“Mum, it's just misting.”

Carole huffed a bit, then wrapped Claire in her own afghan, the wool rough against Claire's bare arms. To Claire, her mother looked frail and defenseless, clad only in a thin t-shirt. In the past, her mother's vulnerability had kept the questions at bay. Not now, though. “Mum, is this what my dad used to do?”

“Your dad... What?”

“Say he would show up, and then, well, not?”

Her mother didn't have to speak, as the flash of pain which cross her face answered for her. “There's a sea-wind blowing in,” Carole said in a tight voice. “Salt in the air.”

“I'll take that as a yes.”

Her mother faced her directly, eyes wide with appeal in her haunted face. “Hurley isn't like that, hon.”

“I almost wish he was.”

“No, Claire, you don't.”

Lumps of despair clogged Claire's throat, and she struggled to speak through them. “Mum, don't you see? If he's just ditched me, then at least he's all right, somewhere. As it is—“

“Honey, think of it as him being caught in traffic with no mobile.”

“For a whole day?” Claire pulled the blanket over her head, then pointed to the fire. “I'll put that out.”

Face full of sympathy, Carole nodded.

The kitchen pool door clicked open behind them. Claire spun around, hating that she couldn't conceal her disappointment at the sight of Desmond and David.

“It's like everyone's cleared out,” Desmond said. “The whole church is empty as a tomb.”

David frowned. “How can you just close a church? The truck was still there, though.”

“Did you check the garden?” Claire wanted to know.

“Sorry, sister,” Desmond said. “It was locked.”

“Thanks,” Claire said as she turned away to stare again at the water.

“Try to get some sleep,” Carole said. “We'll talk about what to do in the morning.”

Cocooning herself in a blanket brought to mind days on the Island beach when everyone huddled under wreckage which vibrated under the rain's assault. Soon the survivors had stopped hiding from wetness as inevitable as the sea. It was just water. Eventually you dried off.

Even as mist turned to rain, the hot smell of the sea still hung over the patio. Moisture beaded on her skin and made her hair curl. The night felt very large, and Claire closed her eyes against its huge dark breast.

She must have slept for some time, because when she stirred again her body was stiff from the damp. Some low vibration had woken her, a thrumming that was more than a memory of Island rain. A great weight of air gathered above the pool. The dim golden lights which ringed the pool flickered once, twice, then went dark.

Claire clutched her blanket, trying to stifle any pointless hope. Winds stirred up tiny ripples on the water, black no longer. Over the pool's surface, right at the height of a tall man, the air began to glow.

Closer the water's edge she crept, heart almost leaping out of her chest. The glow in the air swelled, stretched into an almond shape, then split wide open. A burst of light broke through the darkness, blue as an Island sky. A huge shaggy form hung suspended, lit by the blue.

All at once the light winked out, but the round man at its center hovered over the pool for another heart-beat.

Hugo curled into a ball and dropped straight into the pool.

Claire packed all the fear and sadness of the evening into one shrill yell, but the sound of Hugo hitting the water drowned it out. A great wave soaked her to the skin, almost knocking her over. She flung the blankets to the tile as a grinning Hugo bobbed to the surface, his wet mane plastered to his head.

Into the water she dove. The pool waters still sloshed as if in a giant basin, and they thrust her into the pool's center, so that she almost crashed into him.

He pulled her in close with one hand, while treading water with the other. "Oh, man, I thought I'd never get here."

All questions, all worries buried themselves along with her face pressed into his slick, wet neck. She clung to him, all of him, whole and warm in her arms, safe and secure, then wrapped her legs around his belly.

Behind them a security light came on, flooding the pool deck with harsh brightness. She heard her mum shout, "Claire, are you all right?" followed by Carmen's thunderous "Huuuu-go! What are you doing in the pool at this time of night?" They must have woken up Penny as well, because in between Carmen and David's shouts, Penny's "Good heavens, what's this?" could be heard.

None of it mattered. She scrunched her eyes so tight that green spots appeared, and rocked in the center of a chlorine sea, clinging to him as if he was an island, her island.

"Hey, Claire, it's OK. You're kinda choking me."

She let loose her death-grip a bit, then worked her way up his dripping beard to his mouth. He tasted of pool-water and sunlight. Distracted by the kiss, he stopped kicking, and they sank a little. She finally opened her eyes when he broke off the kiss and gave her an intent stare, his own dark eyes round as saucers.

"Really? For real?"

Oh my God, he knows. He can feel it. All she could do was nod, tears of relief running down her face.

Behind her, a high-pitched voice called out, "Mummy, Auntie Claire's swimming. I want to swim, too!"

Hugo squeezed her to him, keeping them both afloat by kicking alone. They turned in a slow half-circle, so that Claire could see Sawyer and Kate hurrying across the poolside. Aaron stood alongside Charlie and said, "Can we, Mummy Kate?"

"You sure can," Kate said.

Penny nodded. Both boys yelled, "Cannonball!" and hit the water at the same time. Carmen gave a few yells about how they were all going to catch their deaths of cold, and what about life vests, but when Kate jumped into the water, Carmen just planted her face in David's shoulder and cried.

Desmond raced to the water dressed in nothing but boxers, then flung himself in as well. Claire pulled herself around to cling to Hugo's back, while Desmond and Hugo hugged like two bears in a stream.

"All this shouting and splashing at three in the morning," Carmen cried out. "The neighbors are going to call the police!"

David steered her towards the French doors which led to their bedroom. "Come on, Carmencita. These folks are gonna need some towels."

Sawyer stubbornly remained pool-side, dodging Kate's attempts to splash him. "Somebody's got to be ring-master of this seal show."

When Charlie clambered up onto his father's shoulders, Aaron darted like a fish over to Hugo. "Me, too!"

Claire floated away as Hugo pulled Aaron up. Sawyer grabbed two long foam fun-noodles and tossed one to each of the men.

"Cage fight!" Hugo yelled.

They tussled in the water as each boy tried to whomp the other with his fun-noodle. When they tired of that, Desmond called out to Charlie, "Hold your breath," then dove beneath the churning water as Hugo followed with Aaron.

Without Hugo to warm her front, Claire started to shiver. The strange force which had filled the night with heat had vanished, and Hugo had to practically pull her out of the pool.

Desmond and Hugo were both talking at once, so excitedly that no one could understand, while at the same time Hugo was trying to hug everyone. David sidled up to Hugo and thrust a couple of bath sheets into his hands, then pointed to Claire. "Son, this girl's cold as a drowned shrimp. You need to take care of her."

Hugo wrapped one towel around her shoulders, then covered her face with the other one as he blotted her hair, but mostly just dried her tears. In a low voice he said, "Come on, let's go upstairs," then stole a glance over at Aaron.

"They're camping out next to Des and Penny's room."

The syllable came out soft and slow, graced with a smile. "Good."

Everything inside her collapsed into warm surrender. Above, the clouds let down the burdens which they had been carrying around all night, and it began to pour buckets of rain.

(continued)


(no subject)

Date: 2016-03-08 12:40 am (UTC)
desdemonaspace: (Default)
From: [personal profile] desdemonaspace
First of all, WHY aren't more people reading this? It's well-written and the foreboding Kate is feeling made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I know, I know, it wouldn't be good drama if there weren't conflicts and obstacles to everyone's ultimate happiness, and is IS good, but MAN, am I worried about these characters, and want them safe on the island under Hugo's protection.

The children are darling, and of course, Charlie and Aaron are about the same age. I said, "Cannonball!" when Hugo appeared (whew!!!) even before the kids said it. Your Hugo is more of an adult that canon Hurley, and we wears the maturity well. Plus, sexy! I was as relieved as Claire must have been, at his appearance. And may I say, WHAT an entrance!

Now for the sexy times...

PS - Your Sawyer is perfect for Kate. She needs someone, and boy, am I worried for her. When you had Des say, "MI," I literally shuddered. This fic is a real pleasure to read, and I'm so glad when you message me. Thank you for writing it!

(no subject)

Date: 2016-03-08 04:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] stefanie-bean.livejournal.com
>why aren't more people reading this?

Ha, to be fair, LOST is pretty inactive as a fandom. Also, I'm not writing canon-fave ships or characters.

Yup, Hugo knows how to make an entrance (like his big blue tank in the Battle of the Beach Camp.)

Thanks for your vote of confidence on Sawyer/Kate. Some over on FFN weren't so sanguine... ;-)

And thanks so much for reading & reviewing! <3

Profile

stefanie_bean: (Default)
stefanie_bean

September 2017

S M T W T F S
     12
3456 789
10 111213141516
17181920 212223
24252627282930

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios