(no subject)
Title: Play Your Games
Fandom: Lost/Oz
Characters/Pairings: Shannon Rutherford/Ryan O'Reily, Boone
Prompt: #07 - Prove It for
un_love_you
Word Count: 1,286
Rating: R
Summary: AU. Shannon never was one to back down from a challenge.
Author's Note: I had virtually no choice but to mess with the timeline, so this technically qualifies as crack!fic. This is technically before Ryan ever went to Oz, and for Lost it's before the island. That's all you need to know. Just go with it.
It was an argument that went a little too far.
Boone had shown up for one of his unscheduled visits, and her latest conquest had answered the door before she could stop him. Peter was a lawyer, made a six-figure salary, and thought she was twenty-five. Boone didn’t like him, purely because he was the boyfriend of the week. Shannon didn’t care what Boone liked until it started affecting her, which it did when he decided to stare Peter down until he left ten minutes later. She had a feeling that was the last time she would see him again. And then Boone had started in on her.
“Could you be any more predictable?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She whirled on him. It was too early in the morning for this.
He blew it off, sensing that maybe he didn’t want to get into this with her. She hated when he started something and then backed down. “Nothing. You just have a type.”
“No, I don’t,” she bit back, “I just know how to take care of myself.”
“By what? Finding guys who can do that for you?” She tried to cut in, but he talked right over her. “Face it Shan, you go after guys who are older and who can take care of you. You have a type.”
“Not always.” She replied, because even if there was a good chance that he was right, she wouldn’t ever admit to it.
“Oh, yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, but she made no move to change her statement. “Prove it.”
Shannon never was one to back down from a challenge.
That was why she ended up in a bar in the not-so-nice part of town sometime around eleven. She figured all she had to do was pick up the worst of the bunch (by that she did not meant worst looking, she meant in terms of morals and utter lack of anything resembling responsibility, because she was not fucking some burly biker with a hygiene problem), and find some way to make sure Boone knew about it, just to prove that no, he did not know her as well as he thought he did. It couldn’t be too hard.
Hell, it might even be fun.
She spent twenty minutes shooting flirty smiles to the guy playing pool on the other side of the establishment. He wasn’t her type by any means, but that was the point. He made no move to approach her though, and she gave up on him and took a break, ordering a drink.
She heard the door open, not a minute afterward, and set the half-empty glass down next to her, keen on catching a glance at the newcomers. She didn’t have time to however, as the man next to her almost knocked the glass right into her lap with his elbow.
“Watch it, asshole.” She spat, turning to face the uncoordinated idiot who had almost ruined her outfit. When she did, somewhere in her head a buzzer went off. This was exactly what she was looking for, she knew, on sight. He was attractive, on the lean side, with high cheekbones. A silver cross hung from his neck. Somehow he didn’t seem the religious type.
“Maybe you should keep your shit out of my space.” He told her, with a glare that barely softened when he got a good look at her. She had that effect on people.
She contemplates replying in kind, but decides instead to lay on the charm. “I'm sorry, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” He raises an eyebrow in a way that might deter most people, but not her. She saw something she wanted and she would get it. “I’m Shannon.”
There was a look that she would classify as faint amusement on his face, but it quickly disappeared after the briefest of seconds. “Ryan.” His hand closed around his own glass, and she could see the shamrock tattoo that decorated his skin. She watched his eyes skim over her before he casually said, “I think you’re in the wrong part of this city.”
“Well you don’t know me well enough to decide that.” She replied, even if he was right. She was horribly out of place in her two-hundred dollar shoes and designer clothes, but at least it got her noticed if nothing else.
He leaned a fraction of an inch closer to her, enough so that she could smell cigarette smoke and leather. “Feel like changing that?”
She acted like she hadn’t already made that decision, brushing her hair out of her face, and asking, “I’m nineteen. Does that bother you?”
“I have a wife named Shannon. Does that bother you?” He retorted, an indirect way of telling her he didn’t.
“I’ll get a cab.” She said, making a move to stand, but his hand found it’s way onto her bare arm.
“Don’t bother. I’ll drive, you navigate.” He told her. She nodded, and watched him nudge his buddy next to him, and whisper something she couldn’t quite hear before he got up, and they left.
---
“Just give me a minute.” She had to pause him outside her door, as she slipped the key into the lock, and went inside, closing the door in his face. She could hear him mutter something under his breath about how this better be worth it, but she ignored it, instead of opting to not-so-gently shove Boone who was asleep on the couch.
“Shan, what the hell,” Boone asked, waking up almost immediately, a bit disoriented.
“Get out.” She said, simply.
“What?” He sat up, but made no move to leave. She didn’t have all day, and he was ruining her plans as normal.
“I said get out. Why are you even here?”
“I was waiting for you to get back,” he replied.
“Well I’m back, and I’m not alone, and I don’t really feel like having a threesome with my step-brother.” She grabbed a hold of his arm, and dragged him up off the couch. “Now, for the last time get out of here.”
“What is this one? A doctor?”
That was laughable. “No. Proof.”
“What are you talking -“ it took him a minute to figure out what she was referring to. “Seriously, Shan, this is taking it a little too far, even for you.”
“And you know, that’s not really your decision,” she said, giving him one final shove toward the door, and telling him, “Point is, I still win, and you’re still wrong.”
Boone looked like he said more but she gave him a warning glare, and so he walked out the door, passing by Ryan, and throwing an “I’m sorry, man,” over his shoulder.
Ryan walked inside without any hesitation, despite Boone’s little show. “What the fuck was all that?”
“My brother,” she told him, not adding the step part, not going into anymore detail than that. “He’s a jerk.” Thinking about Boone was killing the mood, so she pulled Ryan in closer, with a breathy, “Kiss me.”
He doesn’t seem to mind her forwardness, although he does twist her around so that he can back her against the nearest wall, pinning her arms to her sides as he kissed her, the gentleness that her last boyfriend possessed seemingly non-existent in him. She didn’t mind at all, it was a nice change of pace. Screwing the bad boy was always a thrill.
Besides, she’d proved her point. That was what mattered, right?
---
Months later she had to stop and laugh to herself as she heard that some guy named Ryan O’Reily had been arrested for vehicular manslaughter, among other things.
She really did know how to pick them.
Fandom: Lost/Oz
Characters/Pairings: Shannon Rutherford/Ryan O'Reily, Boone
Prompt: #07 - Prove It for
un_love_you
Word Count: 1,286
Rating: R
Summary: AU. Shannon never was one to back down from a challenge.
Author's Note: I had virtually no choice but to mess with the timeline, so this technically qualifies as crack!fic. This is technically before Ryan ever went to Oz, and for Lost it's before the island. That's all you need to know. Just go with it.
It was an argument that went a little too far.
Boone had shown up for one of his unscheduled visits, and her latest conquest had answered the door before she could stop him. Peter was a lawyer, made a six-figure salary, and thought she was twenty-five. Boone didn’t like him, purely because he was the boyfriend of the week. Shannon didn’t care what Boone liked until it started affecting her, which it did when he decided to stare Peter down until he left ten minutes later. She had a feeling that was the last time she would see him again. And then Boone had started in on her.
“Could you be any more predictable?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She whirled on him. It was too early in the morning for this.
He blew it off, sensing that maybe he didn’t want to get into this with her. She hated when he started something and then backed down. “Nothing. You just have a type.”
“No, I don’t,” she bit back, “I just know how to take care of myself.”
“By what? Finding guys who can do that for you?” She tried to cut in, but he talked right over her. “Face it Shan, you go after guys who are older and who can take care of you. You have a type.”
“Not always.” She replied, because even if there was a good chance that he was right, she wouldn’t ever admit to it.
“Oh, yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, but she made no move to change her statement. “Prove it.”
Shannon never was one to back down from a challenge.
That was why she ended up in a bar in the not-so-nice part of town sometime around eleven. She figured all she had to do was pick up the worst of the bunch (by that she did not meant worst looking, she meant in terms of morals and utter lack of anything resembling responsibility, because she was not fucking some burly biker with a hygiene problem), and find some way to make sure Boone knew about it, just to prove that no, he did not know her as well as he thought he did. It couldn’t be too hard.
Hell, it might even be fun.
She spent twenty minutes shooting flirty smiles to the guy playing pool on the other side of the establishment. He wasn’t her type by any means, but that was the point. He made no move to approach her though, and she gave up on him and took a break, ordering a drink.
She heard the door open, not a minute afterward, and set the half-empty glass down next to her, keen on catching a glance at the newcomers. She didn’t have time to however, as the man next to her almost knocked the glass right into her lap with his elbow.
“Watch it, asshole.” She spat, turning to face the uncoordinated idiot who had almost ruined her outfit. When she did, somewhere in her head a buzzer went off. This was exactly what she was looking for, she knew, on sight. He was attractive, on the lean side, with high cheekbones. A silver cross hung from his neck. Somehow he didn’t seem the religious type.
“Maybe you should keep your shit out of my space.” He told her, with a glare that barely softened when he got a good look at her. She had that effect on people.
She contemplates replying in kind, but decides instead to lay on the charm. “I'm sorry, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” He raises an eyebrow in a way that might deter most people, but not her. She saw something she wanted and she would get it. “I’m Shannon.”
There was a look that she would classify as faint amusement on his face, but it quickly disappeared after the briefest of seconds. “Ryan.” His hand closed around his own glass, and she could see the shamrock tattoo that decorated his skin. She watched his eyes skim over her before he casually said, “I think you’re in the wrong part of this city.”
“Well you don’t know me well enough to decide that.” She replied, even if he was right. She was horribly out of place in her two-hundred dollar shoes and designer clothes, but at least it got her noticed if nothing else.
He leaned a fraction of an inch closer to her, enough so that she could smell cigarette smoke and leather. “Feel like changing that?”
She acted like she hadn’t already made that decision, brushing her hair out of her face, and asking, “I’m nineteen. Does that bother you?”
“I have a wife named Shannon. Does that bother you?” He retorted, an indirect way of telling her he didn’t.
“I’ll get a cab.” She said, making a move to stand, but his hand found it’s way onto her bare arm.
“Don’t bother. I’ll drive, you navigate.” He told her. She nodded, and watched him nudge his buddy next to him, and whisper something she couldn’t quite hear before he got up, and they left.
---
“Just give me a minute.” She had to pause him outside her door, as she slipped the key into the lock, and went inside, closing the door in his face. She could hear him mutter something under his breath about how this better be worth it, but she ignored it, instead of opting to not-so-gently shove Boone who was asleep on the couch.
“Shan, what the hell,” Boone asked, waking up almost immediately, a bit disoriented.
“Get out.” She said, simply.
“What?” He sat up, but made no move to leave. She didn’t have all day, and he was ruining her plans as normal.
“I said get out. Why are you even here?”
“I was waiting for you to get back,” he replied.
“Well I’m back, and I’m not alone, and I don’t really feel like having a threesome with my step-brother.” She grabbed a hold of his arm, and dragged him up off the couch. “Now, for the last time get out of here.”
“What is this one? A doctor?”
That was laughable. “No. Proof.”
“What are you talking -“ it took him a minute to figure out what she was referring to. “Seriously, Shan, this is taking it a little too far, even for you.”
“And you know, that’s not really your decision,” she said, giving him one final shove toward the door, and telling him, “Point is, I still win, and you’re still wrong.”
Boone looked like he said more but she gave him a warning glare, and so he walked out the door, passing by Ryan, and throwing an “I’m sorry, man,” over his shoulder.
Ryan walked inside without any hesitation, despite Boone’s little show. “What the fuck was all that?”
“My brother,” she told him, not adding the step part, not going into anymore detail than that. “He’s a jerk.” Thinking about Boone was killing the mood, so she pulled Ryan in closer, with a breathy, “Kiss me.”
He doesn’t seem to mind her forwardness, although he does twist her around so that he can back her against the nearest wall, pinning her arms to her sides as he kissed her, the gentleness that her last boyfriend possessed seemingly non-existent in him. She didn’t mind at all, it was a nice change of pace. Screwing the bad boy was always a thrill.
Besides, she’d proved her point. That was what mattered, right?
---
Months later she had to stop and laugh to herself as she heard that some guy named Ryan O’Reily had been arrested for vehicular manslaughter, among other things.
She really did know how to pick them.