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Mar. 9th, 2005 01:07 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ficinabottle1 drabble, 1 drouble and 1 ficlet.
(actually I cheated a bit. the drabble is a little over 100 and the drouble is actually 300 but whatever.)
ALL Shannon/Sayid
Rating: PG-PG-13 respectively.
She cries at night sometimes, when no one else is around. She would never break down during the day in front of everyone. She’s tried so hard to prove she’s more then a spoiled Barbie doll, and crying like a baby in broad daylight would wreck all that hard work.
When she slept alone, no one was the wiser. She could bury her face in her airplane pillow and allow herself a few tears.
She doesn’t sleep alone anymore though, and for a while she thought that would change things. But sure enough, she woke in the night, tears filling her eyes. She tried to smother the sounds in her arm, but her heard them anyway and woke. He turned her towards him and instead of asking what was wrong, just seemed to instantly understand.
She still cried, but now he was there to brush her tears away, pull her against his heart and provide what she realized she really needed: some comfort.
***
They started a garden of their own, which if they took a moment to think about, they never would have done. It’s just so ridiculously domestic, playing house on a beach with bamboo and left over canvas. Together they put the seeds in the ground, laughing when dirt got everywhere and Shannon seemed to kill every seedling she touched. She learned though, and over four years they had their own little farm.
They started a family, definitely by accident. He had managed to negotiate a box of condoms out of Sawyer’s stash but those of course, ran out. They were inventive after that but imagination only takes you so far. First was a girl, then a boy. They lost their third and afterwards became cautious again. Additions were built to their shelter, and jokes of starting an island nursery were frequent.
They were rescued. The boats confused the children as much as their parents. When did being lost become a home? When did civilization become the terror?
Their love suffered on the mainland. They weren’t legally married, he was nearly deported, her family didn’t understand, his out-right denied it.
They found out the hard way, it was better to stay lost. They pooled their money—Hurley was a big help—and moved off the mainland with friends who felt the same.
Years went by, they remained voluntarily lost. They raised their children, buried their friends.
They were buried together in the sand. She passed in her sleep, he followed after her as they knew he would. There was no ornate headstone, just a simple cross of wood their children wove together. Their youngest carved not their names, but only a simple message into the bark.
“Love is a flower that binds us together and grows in the light we give.”
***
She found the picture a few days later. It’s not like she did it on purpose, she wasn’t snooping or anything. She was just airing out his bedding, trying to be a suitable tent guest. The picture fell out from underneath his blanket and naturally she picked it up.
The woman was beautiful, and amazingly her first reaction was not jealousy but a sort of understanding. She didn’t blame him at all for finding her attractive; she had striking eyes and olive skin. What was she? All straw hair, pale skin even after her days of tanning, and legs that resembled toothpicks.
Shannon stared at the picture for far too long before silently placing it back where she found it and continued on cleaning. She wasn’t sure what to do at first, how to approach him. They had become so close, yet their pasts remained a mystery. She wasn’t sure she had the right to ask questions about his when she hadn’t offered any information on hers.
However, a few days past and she realized she just couldn’t let it go. She kept seeing the woman in the picture, the look in her eyes that spoke volumes. So she waited until dusk one night before pulling him aside and asking him, tentatively, of the woman and the picture.
He was calm, as always, seeming more embarrassed then mad. Shannon herself remained equally calm, not playing the overly clichéd role of jealous socialite girlfriend (one she’d played so many times before). He told her about the woman—Nadia. He spoke of her so fondly and Shannon found she just couldn’t be upset, not about a woman who fought against so much.
When he was finished his story they sat in the sand in silence for a long while. It was finally broken by Shannon who sighed before asking, “What on earth are you doing with me?”
Sayid raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
She sighed again and ran a weary hand through her hair. “I…I’m nothing like that. I’m not some great leader defying a barbaric government. The most rebellious thing I ever did was running away from home like a spoiled brat!”
“Shannon…”
“How do you go from her to me, Sayid?” she shook her head, eyes drifting down to stare at the sand. “Talk about a downgrade…”
Warm fingers brushed her chin, tilting her head up so her eyes had to meet his. “You’re brave in your own ways Shannon,” he assured her, his voice deep and soft. She couldn’t help but lean into his touch, moving closer to him in the sand. “You’re just as stubborn and resilient…more so in some ways,” he chuckled.
“Still,” she whispered, not totally reassured. “You were following her path. What if we get off this place, land in LA, and she’s there to meet you?”
“And what if we die tomorrow?” he deadpanned.
Shannon rolled her eyes. If she weren’t used to Sayid’s humor she’d have been shaken. “So we do the cheesy, ‘live by the moment’ sort of thing?”
“I think it’s all we can do in a way,” he admits.
“But what if you were supposed to be—
He silenced her by leaning forward, lightly brushing his lips against hers. It worked; when they parted Shannon was quiet, attentive. Sayid continued in a whisper, “And what if looking for her was simply a path that led me to you?”
She smiled sweetly, trying very hard not to blush because that so wasn’t like her. “Okay,” she submitted softly. “We do the live by the day thing.”
“Right, focus on just…finding a little happiness here,” he sighed, looking around at he island and remaining plane wreckage that dotted the tropical landscape.
He almost doesn’t hear her murmur, “I’d like to make you happy.” She was smiling full force and for some reason that always makes his stomach flip.
“You do,” he said as he gathered her in his arms, and he knew when she rested her head over his heart that she believed him.
~Toni *falls over*
(actually I cheated a bit. the drabble is a little over 100 and the drouble is actually 300 but whatever.)
ALL Shannon/Sayid
Rating: PG-PG-13 respectively.
She cries at night sometimes, when no one else is around. She would never break down during the day in front of everyone. She’s tried so hard to prove she’s more then a spoiled Barbie doll, and crying like a baby in broad daylight would wreck all that hard work.
When she slept alone, no one was the wiser. She could bury her face in her airplane pillow and allow herself a few tears.
She doesn’t sleep alone anymore though, and for a while she thought that would change things. But sure enough, she woke in the night, tears filling her eyes. She tried to smother the sounds in her arm, but her heard them anyway and woke. He turned her towards him and instead of asking what was wrong, just seemed to instantly understand.
She still cried, but now he was there to brush her tears away, pull her against his heart and provide what she realized she really needed: some comfort.
***
They started a garden of their own, which if they took a moment to think about, they never would have done. It’s just so ridiculously domestic, playing house on a beach with bamboo and left over canvas. Together they put the seeds in the ground, laughing when dirt got everywhere and Shannon seemed to kill every seedling she touched. She learned though, and over four years they had their own little farm.
They started a family, definitely by accident. He had managed to negotiate a box of condoms out of Sawyer’s stash but those of course, ran out. They were inventive after that but imagination only takes you so far. First was a girl, then a boy. They lost their third and afterwards became cautious again. Additions were built to their shelter, and jokes of starting an island nursery were frequent.
They were rescued. The boats confused the children as much as their parents. When did being lost become a home? When did civilization become the terror?
Their love suffered on the mainland. They weren’t legally married, he was nearly deported, her family didn’t understand, his out-right denied it.
They found out the hard way, it was better to stay lost. They pooled their money—Hurley was a big help—and moved off the mainland with friends who felt the same.
Years went by, they remained voluntarily lost. They raised their children, buried their friends.
They were buried together in the sand. She passed in her sleep, he followed after her as they knew he would. There was no ornate headstone, just a simple cross of wood their children wove together. Their youngest carved not their names, but only a simple message into the bark.
“Love is a flower that binds us together and grows in the light we give.”
***
She found the picture a few days later. It’s not like she did it on purpose, she wasn’t snooping or anything. She was just airing out his bedding, trying to be a suitable tent guest. The picture fell out from underneath his blanket and naturally she picked it up.
The woman was beautiful, and amazingly her first reaction was not jealousy but a sort of understanding. She didn’t blame him at all for finding her attractive; she had striking eyes and olive skin. What was she? All straw hair, pale skin even after her days of tanning, and legs that resembled toothpicks.
Shannon stared at the picture for far too long before silently placing it back where she found it and continued on cleaning. She wasn’t sure what to do at first, how to approach him. They had become so close, yet their pasts remained a mystery. She wasn’t sure she had the right to ask questions about his when she hadn’t offered any information on hers.
However, a few days past and she realized she just couldn’t let it go. She kept seeing the woman in the picture, the look in her eyes that spoke volumes. So she waited until dusk one night before pulling him aside and asking him, tentatively, of the woman and the picture.
He was calm, as always, seeming more embarrassed then mad. Shannon herself remained equally calm, not playing the overly clichéd role of jealous socialite girlfriend (one she’d played so many times before). He told her about the woman—Nadia. He spoke of her so fondly and Shannon found she just couldn’t be upset, not about a woman who fought against so much.
When he was finished his story they sat in the sand in silence for a long while. It was finally broken by Shannon who sighed before asking, “What on earth are you doing with me?”
Sayid raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
She sighed again and ran a weary hand through her hair. “I…I’m nothing like that. I’m not some great leader defying a barbaric government. The most rebellious thing I ever did was running away from home like a spoiled brat!”
“Shannon…”
“How do you go from her to me, Sayid?” she shook her head, eyes drifting down to stare at the sand. “Talk about a downgrade…”
Warm fingers brushed her chin, tilting her head up so her eyes had to meet his. “You’re brave in your own ways Shannon,” he assured her, his voice deep and soft. She couldn’t help but lean into his touch, moving closer to him in the sand. “You’re just as stubborn and resilient…more so in some ways,” he chuckled.
“Still,” she whispered, not totally reassured. “You were following her path. What if we get off this place, land in LA, and she’s there to meet you?”
“And what if we die tomorrow?” he deadpanned.
Shannon rolled her eyes. If she weren’t used to Sayid’s humor she’d have been shaken. “So we do the cheesy, ‘live by the moment’ sort of thing?”
“I think it’s all we can do in a way,” he admits.
“But what if you were supposed to be—
He silenced her by leaning forward, lightly brushing his lips against hers. It worked; when they parted Shannon was quiet, attentive. Sayid continued in a whisper, “And what if looking for her was simply a path that led me to you?”
She smiled sweetly, trying very hard not to blush because that so wasn’t like her. “Okay,” she submitted softly. “We do the live by the day thing.”
“Right, focus on just…finding a little happiness here,” he sighed, looking around at he island and remaining plane wreckage that dotted the tropical landscape.
He almost doesn’t hear her murmur, “I’d like to make you happy.” She was smiling full force and for some reason that always makes his stomach flip.
“You do,” he said as he gathered her in his arms, and he knew when she rested her head over his heart that she believed him.
~Toni *falls over*
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