(no subject)
Title: Hide Beside Me For Awhile
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Kate/Sun
Word Count: 572
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kate decides you call this coping. Coping with the hand life dealt you.
It never really occurs to Kate that Sun spends as much time at her house as she does, until she notices that there’s a small tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush, that is very much not Kate’s, left in the bathroom.
What had started out as a visit or two once a month had turned into full-fledged sleepovers of the non-braiding-hair-talking-about-boys kind that occurred pretty much every weekend. At first it was under the guise of helping with Aaron, but Kate had a nanny for that. Then it was because it was too late to drive home, but nine wasn’t too late for a two hour drive back.
It was loneliness is what it was. Jin was dead, the baby - well Sun didn’t like to talk about that - which left Sun alone. She worked part-time, didn’t need the money because of the settlement. Empty houses only serve to throw shadows and remind people of what they’ve lost.
So they talk, idle around the house, keep each other company. The night Sun crawls in bed with Kate and kisses her, Kate calls it comfort and leaves it at that, even if she kisses back, even if her hands come to lay on Sun’s mostly exposed skin. Because friends comfort their friends during the hardest of times, it’s just the guidelines of what exactly comfort is that are left blurry.
Yes, holding hands and maybe a peck on the lips could count. But when Kate’s hands slip under Sun’s shirt, and Sun’s tongue slips into Kate’s mouth - well what do you call that. What do you call fingers that find their way between creamy thighs and moans that sound like longing for the past?
Kate decides you call it coping. Coping with the hand life has dealt with you, and trying to find your way. This isn’t the way Kate’s life was supposed to turn out, a plane crash survivor, saddled with a child that isn’t hers but she loves all the same, and she knows this isn’t the way Sun’s life was supposed to work out. The wealthy woman with the husband and the house and the perfect life that turned out to be less than perfect. The part after the happily ever after that the storybook’s fail to mention. Like when the prince dies and there’s no magic that will bring him back.
Then again Kate’s lost both of her princes too, though they’re not dead and gone, but she really only has herself to blame for that.
Sunday evening comes and Sun’s got a packed bag and the same “I don’t want to overstay my welcome on her lips” that she always uses, like it all makes this into one big accident. She gives Aaron a kiss on the forehead, and Kate wraps her arms around her friend, inhaling her scent - she still smells like the island, like the flowers that filled her garden, they’re still so lost - and whispering “I’ll see you soon”, not wanting to let go even when she has to. If she doesn’t then this becomes something other than two friends having a casual visit. She’d rather not acknowledge their problems. It’s just easier that way.
She’ll be back in a week or so, Kate tells herself, and it makes her heart hurt a little less when she watches Sun’s car pull away.
Until then that tube of toothpaste serves as both a reminder and a placeholder.
---
Title: Karma
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Ana/Shannon
Word Count: 656
Rating: R
Summary: No surprises here, rather than asking her if she's okay or helping her up, Shannon stands there with that frown and remarks, bitingly, "Karma."
She knows something is up, knows something is going on, when she opens her eyes and ends up face to face with the blonde that she very distinctly remembers shooting. And killing.
But no, Ana’s not seeing things. This woman - Shannon - hovers over her body, pure annoyance on her face, hands pressed into her hips.
Ana tries to sit up, fails, feels blood rushing to her head and the world tilting just a bit too much.
No surprises here, rather than asking her if she’s okay or helping her up, Shannon stands there with that frown - and somehow, even without knowing her, Ana had always pegged her as a bitchy blonde, if only to lessen the guilt, the remorse, in some sick way - and remarks, bitingly, “Karma.”
Ana kind of wants to hit her. She can’t explain it, she just does. But she can’t, she reminds herself, because Shannon has every right to be acting like this. Ana did kill her after all.
Again, what the hell is going on? And where is she?
She gets up on her second try; dusts off her pants that she was sure were covered in dirt. Except they’re not. They’re clean. Which is also odd.
“What is this about karma?” Ana asks, still disoriented, still trying to figure this out. Trying to figure out why she’s talking to a dead girl in the jungle. Her hand comes up to the back of her head, tries to figure out if she hit it against a rock or something. No marks and, better yet, no rocks around.
“An eye for an eye, you know, everything has consequences.” Ana just stares at her, blankly. This has got to be the most fucked up dream she’s had in awhile. Shannon sighs, rolls her eyes. “You killed me, so now you’re dead. Of course I didn’t get to kill you, but hey, what can you do.”
Shannon just keeps right on rambling but Ana’s a bit stuck on the word ‘dead’. She’s dead. Dead. Gone. “Wait, what?”
“What part of this aren’t you getting?” Ana’s really starting to feel less and less bad about killing her.
“Mostly the part where I’m dead.”
The other woman nods and, in what might be the first signs of, you know, actually being human that Ana’s seen since she…woke up here, Shannon tells her, “That’s normal. It takes a while to process.” Then, just to erase any possible doubt. “But you are.”
Ana just nods.
Five minutes later and Ana’s still quote on quote processing, or more like reflecting, something she hasn’t necessarily ever done, and Shannon’s getting increasingly impatient to the point of clichéd foot tapping and looking for an imaginary watch. If they’re both truly dead, and this isn’t a dream, then Ana doesn’t imagine time matters a whole lot here.
Still, “Are you just going to stand here all day? Because I really had other plans.”
God only knows what those would be. “So I’m dead.”
Shannon looks up from where she’s playing with her nails, resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes. You’re dead. With any luck you’ll get to go watch your own funeral. Those are always fun.”
She’s pretty sure that’s sarcasm in Shannon’s voice. Or she hopes it is, because from Ana remembers of Shannon’s funeral, what she heard, it wasn’t very much fun at all.
“Okay.” She’s really having trouble grasping this. “Now what?”
“Well we might want to go find your friend Libby…”
That sparks recognition. “Wait, she’s dead too.”
“Yep.” Shannon’s so indifferent about this it’s ridiculous. “Don’t worry. You’ll get your own brand of karma. I’m sure he’ll show up eventually.”
Ana nods, slowly, her feet still stuck to the ground until Shannon turns to her.
“Are you coming or not?”
With some hesitation and a lot of confusion and unanswered questions - apparently the one thing that’s the same in the afterlife - she follows after Shannon.
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Kate/Sun
Word Count: 572
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Kate decides you call this coping. Coping with the hand life dealt you.
It never really occurs to Kate that Sun spends as much time at her house as she does, until she notices that there’s a small tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush, that is very much not Kate’s, left in the bathroom.
What had started out as a visit or two once a month had turned into full-fledged sleepovers of the non-braiding-hair-talking-about-boys kind that occurred pretty much every weekend. At first it was under the guise of helping with Aaron, but Kate had a nanny for that. Then it was because it was too late to drive home, but nine wasn’t too late for a two hour drive back.
It was loneliness is what it was. Jin was dead, the baby - well Sun didn’t like to talk about that - which left Sun alone. She worked part-time, didn’t need the money because of the settlement. Empty houses only serve to throw shadows and remind people of what they’ve lost.
So they talk, idle around the house, keep each other company. The night Sun crawls in bed with Kate and kisses her, Kate calls it comfort and leaves it at that, even if she kisses back, even if her hands come to lay on Sun’s mostly exposed skin. Because friends comfort their friends during the hardest of times, it’s just the guidelines of what exactly comfort is that are left blurry.
Yes, holding hands and maybe a peck on the lips could count. But when Kate’s hands slip under Sun’s shirt, and Sun’s tongue slips into Kate’s mouth - well what do you call that. What do you call fingers that find their way between creamy thighs and moans that sound like longing for the past?
Kate decides you call it coping. Coping with the hand life has dealt with you, and trying to find your way. This isn’t the way Kate’s life was supposed to turn out, a plane crash survivor, saddled with a child that isn’t hers but she loves all the same, and she knows this isn’t the way Sun’s life was supposed to work out. The wealthy woman with the husband and the house and the perfect life that turned out to be less than perfect. The part after the happily ever after that the storybook’s fail to mention. Like when the prince dies and there’s no magic that will bring him back.
Then again Kate’s lost both of her princes too, though they’re not dead and gone, but she really only has herself to blame for that.
Sunday evening comes and Sun’s got a packed bag and the same “I don’t want to overstay my welcome on her lips” that she always uses, like it all makes this into one big accident. She gives Aaron a kiss on the forehead, and Kate wraps her arms around her friend, inhaling her scent - she still smells like the island, like the flowers that filled her garden, they’re still so lost - and whispering “I’ll see you soon”, not wanting to let go even when she has to. If she doesn’t then this becomes something other than two friends having a casual visit. She’d rather not acknowledge their problems. It’s just easier that way.
She’ll be back in a week or so, Kate tells herself, and it makes her heart hurt a little less when she watches Sun’s car pull away.
Until then that tube of toothpaste serves as both a reminder and a placeholder.
---
Title: Karma
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Ana/Shannon
Word Count: 656
Rating: R
Summary: No surprises here, rather than asking her if she's okay or helping her up, Shannon stands there with that frown and remarks, bitingly, "Karma."
She knows something is up, knows something is going on, when she opens her eyes and ends up face to face with the blonde that she very distinctly remembers shooting. And killing.
But no, Ana’s not seeing things. This woman - Shannon - hovers over her body, pure annoyance on her face, hands pressed into her hips.
Ana tries to sit up, fails, feels blood rushing to her head and the world tilting just a bit too much.
No surprises here, rather than asking her if she’s okay or helping her up, Shannon stands there with that frown - and somehow, even without knowing her, Ana had always pegged her as a bitchy blonde, if only to lessen the guilt, the remorse, in some sick way - and remarks, bitingly, “Karma.”
Ana kind of wants to hit her. She can’t explain it, she just does. But she can’t, she reminds herself, because Shannon has every right to be acting like this. Ana did kill her after all.
Again, what the hell is going on? And where is she?
She gets up on her second try; dusts off her pants that she was sure were covered in dirt. Except they’re not. They’re clean. Which is also odd.
“What is this about karma?” Ana asks, still disoriented, still trying to figure this out. Trying to figure out why she’s talking to a dead girl in the jungle. Her hand comes up to the back of her head, tries to figure out if she hit it against a rock or something. No marks and, better yet, no rocks around.
“An eye for an eye, you know, everything has consequences.” Ana just stares at her, blankly. This has got to be the most fucked up dream she’s had in awhile. Shannon sighs, rolls her eyes. “You killed me, so now you’re dead. Of course I didn’t get to kill you, but hey, what can you do.”
Shannon just keeps right on rambling but Ana’s a bit stuck on the word ‘dead’. She’s dead. Dead. Gone. “Wait, what?”
“What part of this aren’t you getting?” Ana’s really starting to feel less and less bad about killing her.
“Mostly the part where I’m dead.”
The other woman nods and, in what might be the first signs of, you know, actually being human that Ana’s seen since she…woke up here, Shannon tells her, “That’s normal. It takes a while to process.” Then, just to erase any possible doubt. “But you are.”
Ana just nods.
Five minutes later and Ana’s still quote on quote processing, or more like reflecting, something she hasn’t necessarily ever done, and Shannon’s getting increasingly impatient to the point of clichéd foot tapping and looking for an imaginary watch. If they’re both truly dead, and this isn’t a dream, then Ana doesn’t imagine time matters a whole lot here.
Still, “Are you just going to stand here all day? Because I really had other plans.”
God only knows what those would be. “So I’m dead.”
Shannon looks up from where she’s playing with her nails, resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes. You’re dead. With any luck you’ll get to go watch your own funeral. Those are always fun.”
She’s pretty sure that’s sarcasm in Shannon’s voice. Or she hopes it is, because from Ana remembers of Shannon’s funeral, what she heard, it wasn’t very much fun at all.
“Okay.” She’s really having trouble grasping this. “Now what?”
“Well we might want to go find your friend Libby…”
That sparks recognition. “Wait, she’s dead too.”
“Yep.” Shannon’s so indifferent about this it’s ridiculous. “Don’t worry. You’ll get your own brand of karma. I’m sure he’ll show up eventually.”
Ana nods, slowly, her feet still stuck to the ground until Shannon turns to her.
“Are you coming or not?”
With some hesitation and a lot of confusion and unanswered questions - apparently the one thing that’s the same in the afterlife - she follows after Shannon.