Four Ficlets for the Fourth

[ozmissage]

None of these are even remotely patriotic, but oh well. 

Title: The Weight of Words
Pairing: Sawyer/Juliet
Words: 138
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Here be angst.

The feeling should make her happy, but it doesn’t. It weighs her down, settles in the pit of her stomach with a dull ache. She knows how this will end and it won’t be well. That doesn’t change anything; she’s too far gone to turn back now.

She tells him one night, the smell of sex still clinging to them, his head resting on the small of her back. She doesn’t turn to look at him when she says the words.

“I love you, James.”

He doesn’t ask why she says it so sadly, instead he crawls up the length of her until they’re face to face. He flashes her one of his cat that ate the canary grins and says, “Well, I love you back.”

She thinks the words come with too much ease to be true.

Title: Gestures
Pairing: Charlie/Claire
Words: 283
Disclaimer: Not mine
A/N: Set during “Exodus”.

It’s a small gesture. His hair is getting long in the back, blonde strands creeping down his neck, inching towards the raggedy collar of his t-shirt. It’s no big deal, she’s used to this kind of work, haircuts, piercings, she’s been doing this sort of thing since she was sixteen.

Besides, she figures if she’s honest with herself she owes him something. He’s been nothing but good with the baby, singing him to sleep and taking him for walks. And then there was that thing with Ethan. That had been a much larger gesture.

This is a small thing she can do for him. A way to say thank you. She doesn’t really ask him if he wants his hair cut. She prefers a more direct approach.

“Come on Charlie, your hair is getting ridiculous; it’s time for a trim.” She waves the scissors at him and gestures for him to follow her out into the light.

“Right now?” There’s a hint of whine in his voice. He’s busy scribbling lyrics in his notepad, composing potential smash hits for a comeback album that might actually happen if the raft finds land.

“Just bring your guitar with you, but you’ll have to try not to fidget. I don’t want to be responsible for you losing an ear.”

He looks up at her in mock horror.

“This whole situation sounds a bit dodgy to me.”

She rolls her eyes and gives his shoulder a gentle shove.

“Don’t be a baby, Charlie.”

Together they gather up Turniphead and his crib and head down the beach together, guitar slung over Charlie’s shoulder, scissors tucked into the back pocket of Claire’s pants. It’s just a small thing.

Title: We Should All Be So Lucky
Pairing: Sayid/Nadia
Words: 133
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Set during “There’s No Place Like Home.”

“There’s a girl at the lab that would be perfect for him. She’s not very comfortable with herself, but she’s sweet and funny. They would be good for each other.”

Nadia smiled hopefully at Sayid. He brushes a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, trying to hide his amusement.

“Why the sudden interest in Hurley’s love life?”

“He’s been a good friend to you and he seemed so sad today. It was his birthday, he should have been happy.”

“He’s still adjusting to being home, we all are.”

“But you’re happy.” Her words bring a smile to Sayid’s face. He kisses her gently and pulls her into his arms. He sighs against her ear, thinking of Hurley and how uncomfortable he looked at his party.

“Tell me more about this girl.”

Title: All in a Day’s Work
Character: Miles
Words: 192
Disclaimer: Not Mine
Warnings: Language, violent imagery

A chick named Rita died in a crappy hotel room around 12:30 last night. The guy who killed her was a shrimpy, little mouth breather she was embarrassed to know got the better of her. She has a kid in Oklahoma her mom is raising for her. She hopes he never finds out how she died. She was jonesing for cheese pizza right before he strangled her. The bastard didn’t even pay.

Miles stands up, his head still swimming with a tangle of thoughts and feelings; anger, confusion, terror---none of them his own. It’s always the fucking same. He turns to his cop buddy who’s leaning against the cool, iron drawers that line the morgue.

“Her name was Rita Howard, she was strangled to death by some John she gave a blow job to, he didn’t want to pay. He was a short guy, white, skinny, big red glasses, around 45. She’s got a kid in Oklahoma.”

The cop smiles. “Good work, buddy.”

“Don’t mention it.” Miles looks down at the pale, dead face of Rita Howard and then looks back at his colleague. “Hey, you wanna get a pizza after this?”

Comments

[sedauny.livejournal.com]

Oh cripes, Miles--pizza at a time like that? Yeah, that's just what he would say; the whole fic had just the right attitude. Not that the other ones weren't good too--I especially liked the idea of Nadia setting Hurley up with a date and Juliet's feeling of being weighed down by her admission of love and her suspicion of James' reply were very true to her character. Claire and Charlie was sweet, but the little touch of Claire's "direct approach" reminded me of the way she often seemed to just expect people to do what she wanted and got angry if they questioned her. Four good little treats for the Fourth.

[ozmissage.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! I'm not a big fan of Claire, so it was a little weird writing her. She was always a bit bossy.

I'm glad the Miles drabble worked for you. He's such a fun character to write. :)