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ozmissageTitle: shelter from the storm
Pairing: Jack/Claire
Rating: R (sex)
Words: 1,630
Disclaimer: Not mine. Title from the Dylan song.
Summary: It’s past midnight and the rain gives the illusion that there’s nothing left in the world but Jack, Claire, and his old, beat up Jeep.
A/N: Written for former Queen![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
crickets who asked for Jack/Claire and roadtrips.
They’ve barely crossed the Louisiana state line when the sky opens up with rain. It comes down in sheets so thick Jack can’t see the lines on the road anymore. It’s past midnight and the rain gives the illusion that there’s nothing left in the world but Jack, Claire, and his old, beat up Jeep.
He leans closer to the steering wheel, slows down until they’re barely moving at all anymore. Beside him Claire has her nose pressed to the glass, he can’t see her face, but he knows that if he could he would see that she’s grinning.
“I love the rain,” she says.
Jack laughs shakily, grips the steering wheel tighter. He just wants to find somewhere to pull off until the storm passes.
“I’d love it too if we were in a hotel room right now instead of in the middle of nowhere.”
Claire scoots across the seat and rests her head against his shoulder. The lights from the dashboard cast strange blue shadows across her face.
“I haven’t seen rain like this since…”
“Don’t,” he warns.
She sits up suddenly and points to the left.
“There’s a road,” she says happily.
Jack squints in the direction she’s pointing but he only sees more darkness. Claire’s good at this though, she always spots the side roads, sees the turnoffs when they’re still a mile away.
He trusts her, so he turns the wheel and hopes like hell there’s no one else on the road.
“I’ll just have to take your word for it.”
*
The road is long and winding, unpaved. The jeep slips and slides in the mud and Jack knows they’re going to end up stuck if they don’t reach the end soon. The rain is still pounding down around them, interrupted every now and then by a flash of lightening. Claire counts the seconds between each clap of thunder and the next flash of lightening, tells Jack when the number gets smaller they’ll know the storm’s moving away.
Jack’s beginning to wonder if it ever will.
Finally the road widens into a dead end. Jack’s not sure if he feels relieved or apprehensive to find himself face to face with a decrepit old house. He scans the yard looking for cars, lawn mowers---any sign of life, but there’s nothing, just a rambling house by a lake.
Claire slings the door open before the car even comes to a complete stop. She runs out into the storm, the skirt of her sundress fluttering behind her. Jack swears and braces himself for the rain.
“Claire! Be careful,” he calls, but she’s already on the porch, peering into the windows.
The boards on the porch feel unsteady beneath Jack’s feet. He’s shivering, Claire is too, they’re both drenched, their clothes clinging to their skin.
“No one’s home,” Claire says, her eyes shining with mischief.
Jack knocks on the door anyway, half convinced some angry old man with a shotgun will appear to order them off his property. No one comes.
He reaches forward and jiggles the handle while Claire leans against the wall.
“It’s locked,” she says. “We’ll have to find our own way in.”
That’s when Jack notices the rock in her hand.
“Claire, don’t!”
It’s too late; she’s already let it go. It sails through the window and Jack pulls her to him instinctively, shielding her from the glass.
“What if there’s an alarm?” Jack asks.
Claire rolls her eyes.
“This house is ancient silly; no one’s going to come. I promise.”
Jack sighs and carefully reaches through the hole in the window and unlatches the lock. He
raises it with a little effort and Claire slides through the opening and disappears into the house. A moment later, she opens the door.
“Welcome home,” she says.
Claire holds out her hand for his, wiggling her fingers. He arches an eyebrow, but lets her guide him into the house anyway.
“This isn’t our home,” he says lightly.
“Says you,” she shoots back.
The place is dark, every inch covered in dust and cobwebs, but it’s dry for the most part, although Jack can hear the tell-tell sound of water dripping somewhere deeper inside.
“I never thought I’d be squatter,” Jack says.
“Really? I think we’d be good at it, don’t you? We’ve even had a little practice.”
Jack feels his body tense. Claire’s alluded to the island more in one night than she has in three months on the road. He lets it pass, hopes she will to.
He wraps his arms around her shivering shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of her head.
“Should we try to get some sleep?”
It’s too dark to explore, although Jack knows his sister well enough to know that’s exactly what she’s itching to do. She turns to face him, her tiny hands already sliding under his wet shirt.
“I’m too cold to sleep,” she pouts playfully.
Jack looks at the dirty floor.
“Here?” he asks.
She kneels down, her fingers working at his belt buckle.
“Come on Jack, we’re on an adventure.”
He lets her push his jeans down and then removes his own shoes before joining her on the floor.
He can feel a breeze filtering in through the cracks of the floor. There’s something unsettling about this place, but it doesn’t seem to bother Claire. She straddles him and bends down until their lips meet and her wet hair tickles his chin.
Jack groans and reaches under her dress until he finds the elastic band of her panties and tugs them down. She shimmies out of them quickly, tosses them aside. Jack sits up and kisses her this time, catches her off guard by tugging gently at her bottom lip with his teeth.
It’s freeing, the knowledge that they’re totally alone for once, that he can kiss her without fear.
She whimpers and Jack pulls her even closer. He’s painfully hard and he wants nothing more than to flip her over and fuck her right here on this cold, dirty floor in a house that’s no one’s home, but he doesn’t want to hurt her back. I’ll have to let her drive tonight, he thinks wryly.
Claire finds the condom in his wallet and smiles as she helps him slide inside her. She rocks her hips, slowly at first and then she picks up speed as she finds her rhythm.
Jack closes his eyes, tries to concentrate on thrusting up to match her movements, but then he hears laughter echoing from upstairs, it sounds like a child’s laugh. He opens his mouth to ask Claire if she heard it too, but she presses a finger to his lips and begins moving faster, until Jack can think of nothing but her.
*
He sleeps and dreams of the jungle, tastes salt on the air. It’s nothing new. Claire is with him and they’re running for the caves.
“We have to get back before it starts raining,” she says anxiously.
Jack turns his face towards the sky.
“We can’t outrun the storm, Claire.”
As if on cue the rain begins to fall.
*
He wakes up some time later. It’s still dark outside, but the rain has slowed to a drizzle. The floor beside him is empty. Jack sits up quickly, his heart pounding. He hears laughter again and he could almost swear it’s coming from right behind him. He pushes himself to his feet and squints towards the corner, but there’s nothing there.
“Claire?” he calls.
She doesn’t answer.
He walks to the edge of the staircase and listens. He hears footsteps; there’s someone moving around upstairs. Carefully, Jack begins to climb.
The boards groan under his weight. Jack’s nerves get the better of him and he laughs. He feels like he’s ten again and sneaking around his attic with Marc. They used to whisper ghost stories back and forth, scaring the hell out of each other until Jack’s father would climb the stairs and tell them to keep it down, breaking the illusion.
“Claire?” he calls again.
“I’m up here.”
Relief floods his system and he climbs faster, following the sound of her voice down the hall, but when he reaches the doorway she’s standing in, he freezes.
The room is small, full of shelves lined with jars. In the center sits a rocking chair and nothing else. Jack feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“I heard whispering,” Claire says. “So I followed the sound, it was coming from in here.”
Jack takes her hand, gives it a quick squeeze. He finds that he can’t look directly at the chair.
“It was just the wind, Claire. There’s no one here, no one but us.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she says softly.
The chair creaks and Jack blinks, begins pulling Claire away from the room.
“Come on,” he says. “It’s time to go.”
“Where?” Claire asks.
“Away from here. Now come on, move!”
He pushes her towards the stairs, ignoring the way she keeps glancing back over her shoulder.
They run from the house, don’t stop until they reach the Jeep. They leave the door gaping behind them.
They slam the car doors shut, both of them breathing heavily. Claire begins to giggle.
“We’re some pair, huh?”
Jack smiles sheepishly; he’s already beginning to feel foolish.
“I think I’m all adventured out.”
Claire nods and Jack puts the key in the ignition. She’s still smiling, but Jack can see her staring at the house in the rearview mirror.
“Where do you want to go next?” Jack asks, desperate to draw her attention away.
She shrugs and a rumble of thunder echoes somewhere in the distance.
“Anywhere you want,” she says.
Jack listens as she begins counting under her breath.
Pairing: Jack/Claire
Rating: R (sex)
Words: 1,630
Disclaimer: Not mine. Title from the Dylan song.
Summary: It’s past midnight and the rain gives the illusion that there’s nothing left in the world but Jack, Claire, and his old, beat up Jeep.
A/N: Written for former Queen
crickets who asked for Jack/Claire and roadtrips. They’ve barely crossed the Louisiana state line when the sky opens up with rain. It comes down in sheets so thick Jack can’t see the lines on the road anymore. It’s past midnight and the rain gives the illusion that there’s nothing left in the world but Jack, Claire, and his old, beat up Jeep.
He leans closer to the steering wheel, slows down until they’re barely moving at all anymore. Beside him Claire has her nose pressed to the glass, he can’t see her face, but he knows that if he could he would see that she’s grinning.
“I love the rain,” she says.
Jack laughs shakily, grips the steering wheel tighter. He just wants to find somewhere to pull off until the storm passes.
“I’d love it too if we were in a hotel room right now instead of in the middle of nowhere.”
Claire scoots across the seat and rests her head against his shoulder. The lights from the dashboard cast strange blue shadows across her face.
“I haven’t seen rain like this since…”
“Don’t,” he warns.
She sits up suddenly and points to the left.
“There’s a road,” she says happily.
Jack squints in the direction she’s pointing but he only sees more darkness. Claire’s good at this though, she always spots the side roads, sees the turnoffs when they’re still a mile away.
He trusts her, so he turns the wheel and hopes like hell there’s no one else on the road.
“I’ll just have to take your word for it.”
*
The road is long and winding, unpaved. The jeep slips and slides in the mud and Jack knows they’re going to end up stuck if they don’t reach the end soon. The rain is still pounding down around them, interrupted every now and then by a flash of lightening. Claire counts the seconds between each clap of thunder and the next flash of lightening, tells Jack when the number gets smaller they’ll know the storm’s moving away.
Jack’s beginning to wonder if it ever will.
Finally the road widens into a dead end. Jack’s not sure if he feels relieved or apprehensive to find himself face to face with a decrepit old house. He scans the yard looking for cars, lawn mowers---any sign of life, but there’s nothing, just a rambling house by a lake.
Claire slings the door open before the car even comes to a complete stop. She runs out into the storm, the skirt of her sundress fluttering behind her. Jack swears and braces himself for the rain.
“Claire! Be careful,” he calls, but she’s already on the porch, peering into the windows.
The boards on the porch feel unsteady beneath Jack’s feet. He’s shivering, Claire is too, they’re both drenched, their clothes clinging to their skin.
“No one’s home,” Claire says, her eyes shining with mischief.
Jack knocks on the door anyway, half convinced some angry old man with a shotgun will appear to order them off his property. No one comes.
He reaches forward and jiggles the handle while Claire leans against the wall.
“It’s locked,” she says. “We’ll have to find our own way in.”
That’s when Jack notices the rock in her hand.
“Claire, don’t!”
It’s too late; she’s already let it go. It sails through the window and Jack pulls her to him instinctively, shielding her from the glass.
“What if there’s an alarm?” Jack asks.
Claire rolls her eyes.
“This house is ancient silly; no one’s going to come. I promise.”
Jack sighs and carefully reaches through the hole in the window and unlatches the lock. He
raises it with a little effort and Claire slides through the opening and disappears into the house. A moment later, she opens the door.
“Welcome home,” she says.
Claire holds out her hand for his, wiggling her fingers. He arches an eyebrow, but lets her guide him into the house anyway.
“This isn’t our home,” he says lightly.
“Says you,” she shoots back.
The place is dark, every inch covered in dust and cobwebs, but it’s dry for the most part, although Jack can hear the tell-tell sound of water dripping somewhere deeper inside.
“I never thought I’d be squatter,” Jack says.
“Really? I think we’d be good at it, don’t you? We’ve even had a little practice.”
Jack feels his body tense. Claire’s alluded to the island more in one night than she has in three months on the road. He lets it pass, hopes she will to.
He wraps his arms around her shivering shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of her head.
“Should we try to get some sleep?”
It’s too dark to explore, although Jack knows his sister well enough to know that’s exactly what she’s itching to do. She turns to face him, her tiny hands already sliding under his wet shirt.
“I’m too cold to sleep,” she pouts playfully.
Jack looks at the dirty floor.
“Here?” he asks.
She kneels down, her fingers working at his belt buckle.
“Come on Jack, we’re on an adventure.”
He lets her push his jeans down and then removes his own shoes before joining her on the floor.
He can feel a breeze filtering in through the cracks of the floor. There’s something unsettling about this place, but it doesn’t seem to bother Claire. She straddles him and bends down until their lips meet and her wet hair tickles his chin.
Jack groans and reaches under her dress until he finds the elastic band of her panties and tugs them down. She shimmies out of them quickly, tosses them aside. Jack sits up and kisses her this time, catches her off guard by tugging gently at her bottom lip with his teeth.
It’s freeing, the knowledge that they’re totally alone for once, that he can kiss her without fear.
She whimpers and Jack pulls her even closer. He’s painfully hard and he wants nothing more than to flip her over and fuck her right here on this cold, dirty floor in a house that’s no one’s home, but he doesn’t want to hurt her back. I’ll have to let her drive tonight, he thinks wryly.
Claire finds the condom in his wallet and smiles as she helps him slide inside her. She rocks her hips, slowly at first and then she picks up speed as she finds her rhythm.
Jack closes his eyes, tries to concentrate on thrusting up to match her movements, but then he hears laughter echoing from upstairs, it sounds like a child’s laugh. He opens his mouth to ask Claire if she heard it too, but she presses a finger to his lips and begins moving faster, until Jack can think of nothing but her.
*
He sleeps and dreams of the jungle, tastes salt on the air. It’s nothing new. Claire is with him and they’re running for the caves.
“We have to get back before it starts raining,” she says anxiously.
Jack turns his face towards the sky.
“We can’t outrun the storm, Claire.”
As if on cue the rain begins to fall.
*
He wakes up some time later. It’s still dark outside, but the rain has slowed to a drizzle. The floor beside him is empty. Jack sits up quickly, his heart pounding. He hears laughter again and he could almost swear it’s coming from right behind him. He pushes himself to his feet and squints towards the corner, but there’s nothing there.
“Claire?” he calls.
She doesn’t answer.
He walks to the edge of the staircase and listens. He hears footsteps; there’s someone moving around upstairs. Carefully, Jack begins to climb.
The boards groan under his weight. Jack’s nerves get the better of him and he laughs. He feels like he’s ten again and sneaking around his attic with Marc. They used to whisper ghost stories back and forth, scaring the hell out of each other until Jack’s father would climb the stairs and tell them to keep it down, breaking the illusion.
“Claire?” he calls again.
“I’m up here.”
Relief floods his system and he climbs faster, following the sound of her voice down the hall, but when he reaches the doorway she’s standing in, he freezes.
The room is small, full of shelves lined with jars. In the center sits a rocking chair and nothing else. Jack feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“I heard whispering,” Claire says. “So I followed the sound, it was coming from in here.”
Jack takes her hand, gives it a quick squeeze. He finds that he can’t look directly at the chair.
“It was just the wind, Claire. There’s no one here, no one but us.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she says softly.
The chair creaks and Jack blinks, begins pulling Claire away from the room.
“Come on,” he says. “It’s time to go.”
“Where?” Claire asks.
“Away from here. Now come on, move!”
He pushes her towards the stairs, ignoring the way she keeps glancing back over her shoulder.
They run from the house, don’t stop until they reach the Jeep. They leave the door gaping behind them.
They slam the car doors shut, both of them breathing heavily. Claire begins to giggle.
“We’re some pair, huh?”
Jack smiles sheepishly; he’s already beginning to feel foolish.
“I think I’m all adventured out.”
Claire nods and Jack puts the key in the ignition. She’s still smiling, but Jack can see her staring at the house in the rearview mirror.
“Where do you want to go next?” Jack asks, desperate to draw her attention away.
She shrugs and a rumble of thunder echoes somewhere in the distance.
“Anywhere you want,” she says.
Jack listens as she begins counting under her breath.
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no subject
Date: 7/25/10 02:20 am (UTC)Love this so much!
Perfect!
no subject
Date: 7/25/10 04:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 7/25/10 02:27 am (UTC)I love the whole mood of this. And I adore the way you've written Claire here - carefree almost to the point of being childlike. It works perfectly. :)
no subject
Date: 7/25/10 04:19 am (UTC)Heh. I'm not sure why Claire came out so childlike this time, I think it was because I kept thinking of s6 Claire while I was writing it for some reason.
no subject
Date: 7/27/10 02:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 7/28/10 01:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/9/10 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/10/10 02:20 am (UTC)