broke my thunder (naomi/miles, r)
Title: broke my thunder
Author: cloudytea
Characters/Parings: Naomi/Miles
Rating: R.
Summary: It was loathe at first sight. For glass_radical. 427 words.
It was loathe at first sight and he enjoys every minute of it.
How you doin’, G.I. Jane? The freighter deck is full of busy deckhands, but he notices her right away.
Fucking ghostbuster, she murmurs underneath her breath just when she thinks she’s far enough away and Miles can practically taste the disgust in her voice. He smiles as the apple slice crunches between his teeth.
Between his dead mother and the father he never knew, he’s got so many goddamn problems piled up and there’s no room for error -- but between Naomi’s eye rolls and his catcalls, he somehow thinks he can make this work.
One night, she drags him into her cabin, cheap booze on her breath and laughter in her lungs. He nearly knocks his goddamn head on the overhead bunk, but this only increases her giddiness as she slides his shirt over his head and she slips out of her jeans. They fuck (what they do could never be classified as making love) until she can no longer stand it and she pushes him off and tells him to get the hell out, you sodding idiot.
Her eyes fill with hatred at the very sight of him, but they still somehow manage to have a quick meet-up at the bottom of a stairwell, down on the lower decks where no one had any business being -- especially them. Naomi’s nails leave trails of red all across his back, but he doesn't mind: he relishes in the insanity of it all, sees it as an escape in a world gone wrong.
She throws him one last insult before disappearing into the helicopter with Lapidus. It’s a rough night -- winds exceed anything Gault’s ever seen and for some reason, it doesn’t surprise him when the pilot comes back empty-handed and mouthful of apologies.
And now, he’s crouched over her cold, dead body and there are no words between them other than what his ability can extract. For once in his life, Miles Straume is at loss for words and doesn’t say the things that he wants to say -- needs to say.
Even in death, Naomi’s thoughts are laced with the bitterness she’s always carried on her shoulders. Finally, Miles get an answer out of her -- John Locke’s the culprit, knife to the back like a coward in the dark.
He nods and stands. They didn’t kill her, he announces to the rest. But he knows who did -- and the taste of vengeance burns his tongue like an old habit.
Author: cloudytea
Characters/Parings: Naomi/Miles
Rating: R.
Summary: It was loathe at first sight. For glass_radical. 427 words.
It was loathe at first sight and he enjoys every minute of it.
How you doin’, G.I. Jane? The freighter deck is full of busy deckhands, but he notices her right away.
Fucking ghostbuster, she murmurs underneath her breath just when she thinks she’s far enough away and Miles can practically taste the disgust in her voice. He smiles as the apple slice crunches between his teeth.
Between his dead mother and the father he never knew, he’s got so many goddamn problems piled up and there’s no room for error -- but between Naomi’s eye rolls and his catcalls, he somehow thinks he can make this work.
One night, she drags him into her cabin, cheap booze on her breath and laughter in her lungs. He nearly knocks his goddamn head on the overhead bunk, but this only increases her giddiness as she slides his shirt over his head and she slips out of her jeans. They fuck (what they do could never be classified as making love) until she can no longer stand it and she pushes him off and tells him to get the hell out, you sodding idiot.
Her eyes fill with hatred at the very sight of him, but they still somehow manage to have a quick meet-up at the bottom of a stairwell, down on the lower decks where no one had any business being -- especially them. Naomi’s nails leave trails of red all across his back, but he doesn't mind: he relishes in the insanity of it all, sees it as an escape in a world gone wrong.
She throws him one last insult before disappearing into the helicopter with Lapidus. It’s a rough night -- winds exceed anything Gault’s ever seen and for some reason, it doesn’t surprise him when the pilot comes back empty-handed and mouthful of apologies.
And now, he’s crouched over her cold, dead body and there are no words between them other than what his ability can extract. For once in his life, Miles Straume is at loss for words and doesn’t say the things that he wants to say -- needs to say.
Even in death, Naomi’s thoughts are laced with the bitterness she’s always carried on her shoulders. Finally, Miles get an answer out of her -- John Locke’s the culprit, knife to the back like a coward in the dark.
He nods and stands. They didn’t kill her, he announces to the rest. But he knows who did -- and the taste of vengeance burns his tongue like an old habit.