Ever since Stephen got the first
ransom note, he had been a little on edge. Having to deal with casual clothing was a pain in the ass, and some of the suits he had acquired on the island were good. He liked them! He wanted them back, dammit. And he had refused to give in to such demands at first, but, well, Stephen was a product of a post-9/11
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"It's a horn," Stephen said, the duh pretty obvious in every syllable.
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Normally she'd let him go on skulking about in the trees but he's really only a few yards off the path and she's not sure he even realizes that everyone can see him.
"Hey," she calls, sighing as she hitches Sam back up. "Are you okay?"
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"Am I okay?" he repeated. Of course he wasn't okay! But he didn't feel like explaining the suit thing just yet, so he just smiled as charmingly as he could, lowered the big stick he was carrying. "Sure! Just looking for a unicorn. Seen one?"
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"Nooo," she says carefully. "I didn't realize we had them. But, don't you have to be a virgin to see Unicorns?"
Or something like that. It's entirely possible Stephen's a virgin, in Kate's opinion.
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"Dammit! Are you serious? Are you sure??"
What the hell was that about?! Virgins??
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"I'm looking for a unicorn," Stephen not-really-explained. "So? Virgin or not?"
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"Christ, you're not gonna read your fucking book to him again, are you? The horse still does not care if you are America." Asher was pretty sure that statement also went for ninety-nine percent of the Island's current, former and future population. Never mind that the man wasn't actually carrying a book that he could see. But it was his book, he could have had it memorized.
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"No..." Though that was a good idea. And Asher was wrong; Beau had shown a lot of interest in the chapter on animals. "Of course not..."
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Sure, he was dressed like a fucking stable-hand now that his suits had upped sticks - not that Asher knew anything about that - but Asher doubted he was there to bale hay and muck out stables.
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He was such a good actor.
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It had always paid to keep an eye on familiars back home and that instinct hadn't vanished just because she was on the island.
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Her nose wrinkled in disgust at just the thought of the smell in there. She was determined to go no further, having had absolutely no inclination to go near a horse from five years old and up. The times that she had in the past had been purely from necessity. Thank fuck for cars. Out here, however, she couldn't see what Stephen was doing, which automatically meant no potential blackmail material.
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And because sometimes Stephen could think ahead, he pulled out an apple to let Beau eat while he tried fixing the cone in place.
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